The Guardian's Guild: Killer Curiosity
by J.M.Spellbound
Summary: Part Four: Old grudges, past mistakes, a truth waiting to be found, and a score to settle that might destroy everything the Autobots ever cared about. They say curiosity killed the robo-cat, but will it kill the youngling? Ironhide and Optimus were right. This time, Bumblebee really should have listened.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs are mine.**

 **And so it begins again. Part Four of The Guardian's Guild! I'll take a moment to say now to any new readers, if you haven't read the first three parts of this series this part of the story isn't going to make a lick of sense to you. So you might want to go back and see the others before you start this one. To all of the rest of you, welcome back! Glad to see you!**

 **Enjoy the ride.**

 **Also, _Prime Mover_ and _Lock and Key_ by Rush could kind of be called something of theme songs for Part Four. Kinda. At least in my mind it makes sense. If any of you were interested.**

* * *

Chapter 1

In his defense, this wasn't how it was suppose to pan out. Really, this had all worked out a whole pit of a lot better in this head. Because in his head, he won.

Now don't get it wrong, Bumblebee wasn't stupid. He knew his limitations—he was reminded of them constantly, how could he forget—he knew what he was and wasn't capable of. This time though he had been sure he had it. _This_ time he was going to do it. He had it all planed out, and wasn't planning how it was done?

If one asked Prowl it certainly was.

And this time he had actually _had_ a plan. For two whole orns he'd been planning. It was a brilliant plan, if he did say so himself. So how was it he was currently running for his life through digital walls with no ammo left and a rather nasty gash running down his side?

Seriously.

Where the frag did he go wrong this time?

Another twist around a corner, pausing before a junction, a glance back over his shoulder, and a deep breath to try to calm his vents. It was hardly working though. He couldn't get his breaths under control. No matter how bad he was cursing mentally. A fact that probably wasn't helping much in the whole calm down line of thinking, but damn it this test always put him on edge.

He didn't like the dark.

But even more then that he didn't like to lose, and losing was all he'd ever did on this stupid program. Over, and over, and over again.

What was this, the fortieth time he'd taken this test? He honestly couldn't remember. Though no matter, he didn't have any doubt Prowl was going to remind him here in a few klicks when he ultimately failed, _again_.

Sucking in a breath and holding onto it he flattened his doorwings to his back, tightened his thin armor, and glanced this way and that through the darkness. He knew they were both out there, but he had no idea where. No matter how hard he pushed out with his spark and looked there was simply no way to get a grip on where they were.

Spark Dampeners.

Bumblebee fraggin' _hated_ Spark Dampeners.

However, his opinion was of little consequence after Prowl said he was cheating using his spark to find them through their link. Bee guessed he did sort of have a point. There was no way to know if out in the field—if he ever got there—he'd be able to pick up on the bad mechs like he picked up on his family. No matter that he was positive he could. The fact was he had no hard evidence and without proof Prowl certainly wasn't going to listen to him.

So his ability was taken out of play and he was left running blind through the darkness, trying and failing to catch the twins before they caught him. Considering he had about as much chance of doing that without his spark as he did flying, it was all pretty hopeless.

Stepping forward, empty blaster clutched to his chest, he searched the darkness. Listening with every extra burst his doorwings and antennas could give him. Waiting for them to maybe slip up. Step too heavy. Breathe too loud.

It never came.

It never did.

The twins didn't make mistakes. Not even for him.

Not for something as important as this.

Oh no.

There was no going easy on him here. If anything, they were making it as difficult as possible. Because no matter how much they loved him, and looked after him, and told him he could do whatever he set his processor to they didn't want him to pass anymore than any other bot did.

They didn't want him in the field. They didn't want him where they couldn't keep an optic on him.

Walking forward, glancing down each turn he passed in this endless path of corners and dead ends he dialed up his audios as high as he could. Praying to any higher power that would listen to not let him screw this one up.

Please, please, _please_ don't let him mess this one up.

He could do it, he _really_ could. He just needed the chance to prove it. He wasn't going to get many more chances. He had to get this one right!

It seemed though that this orn—once again—it was not meant to be. He didn't make it another five steps before a shadow gained a life of its own. A presence he noticed two nanos too late. A flash, and the broad side of a dueling blade swung for his throat.

To his credit, Bee twisted just in time. Throwing his weight sideways and back. Watching through the inky blackness as that dangerous blade glittered while it slide past. He spun again. Sucking in the next yelp as the shadow behind him moved so that at least when he crashed backward to land with a heavy thud he didn't sound like the sparkling he couldn't get bots to stop looking at him like.

The crash to the floor sent a painful jar through the damage he'd already taken to his side as well as the painful bend it put on his shocked doorwings and winglets. However, that was nothing compared to the eerily cold point of the sword pressed into the hollow of his throat.

He didn't dare breathe.

Not even when the massive shadow over him undimmed his optics and Bumblebee found himself staring up into Sideswipe's dark gaze and sleek faceplate. For a nano they looked at each other, the youngling flat on his back while Sideswipe's massive frame stood over him with a lifted optic ridge.

Pulling up a tentative smile Bumblebee tried to laugh, but he wasn't sure it was really all that believable. His spark was too dim in his chest with failure for that. "Hey ya, Sides, fancy seeing you here."

Sideswipe just snorted at him when the darkness around them suddenly flashed bright as the program faded away. A low whirl echoing through the room, the expanse around them flashing in digital pixels before it all fell away to the dull grey box of the vid projector-training booth. Bumblebee didn't even bother with watching the program flicker away taking his hopes of passing this time with it. He only lay there on his back looking up at the massive crimson warrior whose blade was still pressed to his neck.

In a low rumble, the younger twin sighed. "That's you dead, Half Pint."

With that, he pulled away. The dangerous dueling blade tucked back into its lock as he straightened before he offered the foundling that had become their little brother a tug up off the floor. Unsurprisingly, Bee didn't take it. Instead, he shoved his own weight off the floor. Head bowed and optics low as he refused to meet either of the twins' gazes.

Sunstreaker had stepped forward as the program ended to stand at his brother's side. The two huge frontliners allowing their gazes to linger over the scuffed up youngling. Only to stall at the relatively thick gash torn into his side.

They both flinched.

They hadn't known they clipped him a few klicks back.

Suppressing a hiss Sideswipe reached forward in an effort to get a better look at the damage they had done. Bumblebee flinched back from the touch though. Doorwings hanging in a low tilt behind his back while his winglets stayed plastered down. Antennas tucked deep into their grooves he looked half the size he really was. Turning the about hip high youngling back into the sparkling he tried so hard to get them not to see.

The twins sighed.

It wasn't like they didn't understand. They did, they really did, but it didn't change anything.

Too small, too slow, too _naïve._

Too young.

He wasn't ready.

But maybe more so then that fact was this, none of _them_ were ready for him to be ready yet. Fifty-five vorns . . . the twins had been in many a fight by then. Had killed many a mech. So had Jazz. So had Ironhide. So had many on this ship, but not Bee.

Because he wasn't _ready_ , because they weren't ready, because they wouldn't let him out of their sight, and because they wouldn't let him try.

Because he was too bright.

Turning away from the twins and their reaching Bumblebee swallowed down the lump in this throat as he faced the sliding door across the room. One-way mirror or not Bee had known all too well Prowl was watching. He knew all too well he had failed. _Again_. He didn't need to see the look on the black and white Praxian's faceplate as the door slid away and he walked out. Prowl was relatively good at blocking what he didn't want Bee to know in both his spark and his faceplate, but there was no hiding this.

It was but a few short steps and while Bumblebee kept his chin high he could not hide the reaction of his wings. Trembling ever so slightly with repressed emotion. Prowl never had been able to teach him how to control the damn things either. Not even Blue or Flare could.

He wasn't Praxian and apparently his sensory appendages had a mind of their own. Just like all the rest of him.

He couldn't _quite_ do it.

He wasn't _quite_ good enough.

When Prowl came to a stop in front of him Bee already had the speech he would hear memorized by spark. He had no need or wish to hear it again. So he pulled up the brightest smile he could fake at that moment and shrugged as if he didn't care. As if his spark wasn't twisting into a quivering ball in his chest. Because he'd done it again.

"Well guess that means I lost again, huh?"

Prowl did not believe the act. He never did. Hardly any of them ever really did. There were times he could fool bots like Hound, or Blurr; but Prowl, or Hide, or Optimus, or the twins. They never took the bait. They knew him far too well. After all, they were the ones he ran to. They knew when he was upset.

Which was why Prowl didn't start the speech of points, misses, hits, and such as he normally did. He simply sighed and shook his helm.

"They caught you."

"They always catch me." Bee shrugged again, them motioned back at the pair of mirror mechs. "They're _them_."

"Not even a hit, Bumblebee."

Yeah.

Yeah he knew.

Forty shots.

Forty misses.

Two for them, one of them being a kill, and they didn't even lift their fake blasters.

Lowering his optics he sighed. "At least it took me longer to die this time, right? That's something."

"Bumblebee—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know." Cutting Prowl off with a huff he twisted on his feet and headed toward the door. He didn't want to have this argument again. Especially since it couldn't even really be called an argument. It was mainly just him standing there while Prowl listed out his failures.

 _Again_.

As if he didn't already know what they were.

"I'm too slow, I can't get a hit, I'm too small, I never even get to the end, and I'm not _good enough_. I know . . . ." By that time he reached the door, whispering as it shut behind him. "I'm never good enough, but you won't give me a real chance."

* * *

Trudging down the hall with a hand pressed hard to his leaking cut Bumblebee tried to stick to the lesser used junctions and paths. That was a little hard to pull off though considering he was headed to the medical bay. Every hall in the ship connected back to the medical bay in one way or another, but eventually one would always end up in the main hall of the battleship's base level. There was just no way around it.

It wasn't so much that he didn't want to see anybot. That wasn't it at all, he just wasn't quite ready to face up to the fact that he'd failed once again. That and bots weren't going to be happy when they saw the twins actually hurt him.

The young yellow and highlighted black mechling could already hear Ratchet yelling. However, not going to the medical bay would mean suffering an even worst fate so he sucked it up and trudged along knowing there was no way around it. Considering how Red Alert had this place wired it was highly likely that Ratchet already knew he was coming.

Bee couldn't sneak around halls unseen quite as well as he did forty something vorns ago. Considering he was no longer the size of the air vents that wasn't that hard to figure though. He could still get around unnoticed if he really wanted to put effort into it, but honestly, he didn't want to put effort into much of anything right now.

The last seven decacycles had sort of sucked, and that was putting it lightly.

Hitting fifty-five vorns was a milestone he'd been waiting for. The official, more or less, half grown mark. Just into third frame phase with his last bit of growing to do. However, he had kind of hoped by now he'd be bigger by now. Not that that he had much chance of that, not now at least.

Third frame phase meant he had maybe twenty more vorns of growing to do. Tops.

And he still was looking up at Chromia.

It all made the mechling somewhat down. However, he had always figured he'd be small. He had come to accept that. His size was just the way he was. He was okay with that. What he wasn't okay with was this sudden campaign around here to never let him outside again.

Bumblebee was not a fool. He paid attention. He knew something bad was going on out there. He helped in the medical bay, he helped file reports, he could feel the anger and pain around him when bots didn't come back. He had grown up in this war.

He _knew_.

That was why he wanted to help.

But ever since the moment he was _technically_ old enough to be in battle training it was like the whole world caved in around here. It wasn't like they hadn't all known this orn was coming sooner or later. It wasn't like he hadn't spent his entire life trailing after massive bots with big guns and swords. It wasn't like they hadn't all known his nature his _entire life_ and that he wanted nothing more than to help them all.

This was his family.

This was his home.

He wanted to be able to fight for it just like they did. They all got to defend each other. They all got to defend _him._ Why wouldn't they let him fight for them?

He knew he wasn't big, or powerful, but he could fight. He'd been watching them his whole life. They'd been training him his whole life. It was only when he was actually old enough to start _real_ battle training that things started getting complicated.

It was like the moment he reached third frame they realized their tiny mechling wasn't so tiny anymore. That he technically could start being more than just a smile when bots got back from missions. That he could go with them now. That he could help.

That is he could do it if only they would give him the chance.

The problem was, they didn't want to.

"Half Pint!"

His antennas twitched in their grooves, the sound of Sideswipe's call drawing him to a halt. Glancing back over his shoulder and waiting as the two big mechs closed the distance between them. He found himself tilting his head back and offering as much of a smile as he could.

The dim glow of their optics showed just how much they weren't buying it. So instead he just let it drop. Sighing as he looked up at the pair.

"We'll go to the bay with you." Sunstreaker said, those dark optics of his focused on the blue seeping through Bee's fingers.

"I'm fine."

"Take that up with Hatchet." Sides didn't break stride as he hooked his hand around Bee's bent arm and went on toward the medical bay hauling him along. Sunstreaker took up pace on his other side. Bee couldn't help the small grin that curled up his lips at the annoyance in their fields as they walked. It picked up his mood quickly.

"Shouldn't you mechs be the ones taking it up with Ratchet?"

At the pickup of his smile those dark optics brighten slightly when they glanced down at him. When they settled on the cut though they dimmed and the twins focused back on their path.

"We didn't mean to hurt you, Half Pint." Sideswipe quietly told him.

"I know that." He nodded. "It doesn't really hurt."

That didn't make them feel any better.

"We're sorry you didn't pass, Bee." Sunstreaker softly said.

Just like that the smile fell away from his lips. His steps faltering slightly before he tried for a shrug.

"It's okay," He said. "I can always try again. I passed the first section test; the second one isn't all that different. I'll figure out how to beat ya. You just watch me."

That brought a grin to both frontliners. Chuckling with a shake of their heads the brothers let out a shared snort.

"Try, mechling."

He would.

Of that they were all absolutely positive.

* * *

When the bay doors slid away the lightness in the twins' steps had faltered slightly. Because no matter how much they hadn't meant to, how much it had been a training test, and they were Ratchet's adopted sons the energon leaking down Bumblebee's side was not going to go over well. Which was why two of the most powerful mechs that wore an Autobot badge hovered in the door way getting laughed at by the young yellow mech that pranced further into the bay to find the mated pair in the back stocking shelves.

They had obviously heard the doors chime as a signal that somebot had come in, but they were busy and no bot was shouting for help so they probably figured it was just the twins dropping by. It sort of was, but at the same time wasn't.

"Hey, uh, Ratchet?"

Freezing with boxes of wire patches stacked in one arm and a clipboard balanced on the shelf the tall, bulky, yellow and red mech tensed up. Bumblebee didn't need his heighten spark senses to tell the medic's field ripped with at first shock and then growing suspicion before those dark blue optics cut over to find the young mech standing at the end of the row of shelves holding a hand to his side. There was no hiding the sticky substance leaking out against his bright plating. Bee didn't even try. Instead, he offered the mech a tentative, more than a little guilty, smile and shrugged.

"I could sorta use a patch."

A low annoyed rumbled echoed out of the large medic but he shook his head all the same. Strolling down the gaps between the shelves to take hold of the young mechling to look him over. Arcee was not but a pace behind him. Her pale optics flickering over the gash before lifting to find the twins hovering in the doorway already looking like scolded puppies.

She sighed. "Let me guess, Prowl picked you two to take the training session against him?"

They nodded together but it was Sideswipe that quietly said. "We didn't even know we hit him until it was over."

"Yeah, well, you did." Ratchet grumbled, taking Bee by the upper arm and leading him over to a medical berth. The youngling went without fuss. Hoisting himself up onto the surface that not all that long ago he couldn't even climb on his own. He had done quite a lot of growing over the last thirty vorns, but he knew very well when Arcee and Ratchet looked down at him on that medical berth they still saw the mechling that could fit in their palms.

Just like everybot else around him.

He was still their tiny mechling.

No matter that technically he was almost halfway to fully grown.

The truth was that fact was not something that Bumblebee mined. Not really. He loved his family. All of them. They were there best thing in the entire universe. That had not changed, but it was so hard to get them to look at him and not see a helpless sparkling they would protect at all cost. It was getting _harder_.

Even if a few vorns ago he hadn't believed that possible. It was. When he passed his first battle test he had almost felt the switch flip in the minds around here. The notion that he was old enough now to do what he'd wanted to for so long, help, had struck a match of fear he could still feel burning around him.

It wasn't a notion any of them had taken a shine too quite like he had.

"Beat you again did they?" Ratchet questioned, as he pulled out a scanner. Bee lifted his arm away from his side without having to be prompted. He knew the routine. He should, he spent a whole pit of a lot of time in the medical bay.

Instead of a real answer, though he just gave a slight nod. Keeping his optics low and allowing the medics to stop him leaking.

It wasn't that he didn't like medical stuff. Well, okay, so he didn't _like_ it. He was pretty sure no bot actually _liked_ it. That is, unless they were a medic. What bothered him was how much time he found himself under one of these stupid tingly things. Granted, a lot of it was his fault by thinking he could do a whole lot more then he actually could, but not all of it was.

Most of it was Ratchet's and Arcee's never ending stream of cheek ups.

They were sort of annoying.

What was more annoying though was how Ratchet would not tell him _why_. No matter how many times he asked, no matter how much he claimed he felt fine, it was the same old same old. For a while he thought maybe it was just the usual worries of upgrades phasing correctly as protoform and plating stretched, cracked, and thickened. It wasn't that growth was dangerous—though at times it was downright painful—it was simply that it needed to be monitored. Specific vitamins and supplements were needed as well as a strong reserve of energy.

Growing took a lot out of younglings. Which was what Bumblebee blamed his lack of noticing how odd and extensive his frequent check ups were. It actually wasn't until about a vorn ago when his third growth cycle came around and then slowed down that he began to notice he didn't really _need_ all the monitoring all the medics around here were doing.

However, when he asked why it was happening he was told a simple they were just making sure he was healthy. Which sure, okay, he understood . . . but _why_?

 _Why_ was the best medic in the whole universe worried about a frame and spark he'd been making sure had the best care since he laid hands on it?

What was it Ratchet was worried about?

What was it they weren't telling him this time?

He didn't know, but he was planning on finding out. In the mitts of trying to pass his battle training tests, and convincing his family he was not absolutely helpless, and that locking him up in his room for the remainder of the war was not a smart plan.

It was sorta of a long to do list, but he was making it work.

"Well, if you are through rushing into test before your ready, Ironhide has need of you." Ratchet told him as he finished up grafting the mesh patch into the still thickening, growing, yellow armor of his right side.

Perking up at the mention of his sire the young mechling felt his antennas flicker upright and wiggle as he all but chirped.

"You mean he's done with weapons testing?"

"As of about two breems ago, yes." Arcee answered with a slight laugh at his antics. "You were taking the test and since we all know the first place you have to come after that damn test he commed us and said send you his way when you were done."

"Cool! Thanks!" Leaping up he swung his arms around Ratchet's neck. Giving the mech a tight, squeezing hug before he dropped down, spun around, pushed himself up onto his tip toes, gave Arcee a hard kiss to the cheek and then darted off out the doorway pass the twins yelling 'later' over his shoulder.

Leaving the pair of huge frontliners standing there watching down the hall as he went off in search of his sire and most likely his carrier. Turning their optics back to their own adopted creators they expected the dressing down that always came when training got a little too rough with the delicate mechling. Instead they found both the Chief Medical Officer and his mate standing there in the middle of the bay sighing under their breath.

"Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked carefully, mindful of the fact that the yellow medic might decide any time is a good time to smack them both for making Bumblebee leak again.

"You alright?" Sunstreaker finished.

"How did he do this time?" Ratchet looked up at them with a dimness in his gaze that neither frontliner liked. "And don't give me that slag that is in Prowl's report version that says he's not ready because he can't beat you."

At that both mechs paused. Processors and split spark at war with each other in a short cluster of nanos before they lowered their gazes.

"Good." Sides admitted carefully. "He's sneaky, and he's faster than any of us want to admit. Above all that though, he's clever and he is stubborn. He's only loosing because we're not playing fair. We all know if he can sense us he can sense others. He's done it before."

"Prowl saying its cheating is a load of slag." Sunstreaker grumbled, hating it but at the same time hating that he wanted to agree with it. "If we didn't have the Dampeners on he'd be able to find us. He knows how to shoot, he knows how to hide, and he's been listening to everything we've taught him for _vorns_."

"He's only not passing because we've decided we don't want him to." Sideswipe finished quietly. "I never figured I'd be lying to him like this."

None of them did, but fear . . . fear was a powerful thing.

* * *

Busting through the doors of the main shooting range Bumblebee's voice rang out over the wide open room.

"Hide!"

Pausing mid-sentence the massive ebony mech turned from what he was doing just in time to get a half grown mechling plastered into his side. A heavy grunt left the huge mech, the weight of his adopted son not enough to throw him off balance, but enough to knock the air out a few of his vents leaving him snorting as he looked down at the beaming smile glittering up at him.

"Hi Hide!" Bee chirped, thin but strong arms latched as far around the larger mech's chest as he could get as well as his legs making him a brightly colored cling on burrowed into the harder, thicker black armor.

Ironhide didn't mind in the slightest.

"Hey mechling," He chuckled softly down at his charge. "What's got you in such a fine mood?"

He was slightly afraid to ask, he knew better then anybot what Bumblebee's schedule was booked with this morning. And while the mechling was never really all that _down_ about much of anything he was never this cheery after he lost anything. Especially that second test.

"On nothing." Bee shrugged, finally letting go of his tight hold to his sire. Dropping back down to the floor with a plop. It was then that the dark mech's gaze noticed the fresh patch on his side. Those deep blue optics narrowed at the sight of it.

"What's that?"

Bee glanced down, following the look and just like that some of the _up_ fled his field and his frame as he shrugged once again. This time with a little less of what made him, him.

"Oh . . . you know, I lost again." He sighed. "It's not bad though. They just clipped me on accident. I already went to Ratchet. He said you were done with the weapons test. Does that mean we get to have practice now!?"

With those words the youngling picked up a little bit again. Grin falling back into place as he gazed expectantly up at his massive sire with those impossibly big, bright, baby blue optics. Swimming pools of blue filled with light and excitement. That viewed this big, dark, dangerous world like none of them ever could again.

Bumblebee found joy in ways none of them did anymore, and somehow brought it back to them in ways they had never expected as he had grown. That smile of his was often the only thing around here that kept a good portion of them sane. If it was possible that any of them really had a grip on sanity anymore. He was something anybot around here would give their very lives to protect.

He was their hope.

At his words Ironhide sighed. Knowing full well that his failure had a whole lot more to do with them then it did with him, and while that made his spark squeeze angrily at itself in his chest he said nothing. Just reached out to pull the little mechling close to his side again and hug him tightly.

Bumblebee knew he was loved more than even he was aware, but sometimes Ironhide wondered if he knew just how much his accident-prone little spark terrified them all.

"Yeah, mechling." He said, deep voice rumbling deep in his chest. "If you want to get out shot then why not?"

That earned him a playful shove that did little more than shift his armor. Though it did start up a flare of laughter from the three leaning a few steps away against the table littered with their stripped down weapons. The sound made Bee give a curious chirp, leaning around Ironhide's bulk only for that grin of his to light back up at the sight of the three mechs smirking back at him.

One a bright shine of white striped in red and blue with a shimmering red chevron, bright blue optics, and elegantly crafted doorwings. Smokescreen, with that perfected half smile that now lacked the glow of a grey cy-gar. To the Praxian's right leaned the big red and black, almost spitting image of Hide, ex-bounty hunter by the name of Outrider with his bright cobalt colored optics. To Rider's right stood the equally as big dark blue mech highlighted here and there in black. His dark blue optics sparkling with good nature humor as he looked down at Bee's much smaller frame. Hammerdown, the transfer from Hot Rod's ship that had fallen back into place among those that had made up his family as a youngling.

Ironhide's main strike team.

Three of the biggest bad afts around this place.

Bee loved every single one of them. Technically they were kind of his uncles—being Ironhide's adopted son and all—but considering they were about as bad at disciplining him as he was with his hounds it was with them that he could pretty much get away with anything.

The trio had absolutely no idea how to tell him no and no matter if that might make him slightly devious he used it to his advantage every chance he got. They were a whole lot of fun, especially when explosives and live ammunition were involved. On top of all that though, the three of them were always coming and going. They were never home for long. Always vanishing off in that ship of theirs to some place or another. Chasing leads for Optimus. Gathering information.

Scouts of the coolest level.

They were everything Bumblebee wanted to be and be able to do.

Blasting off to explore the stars beyond this dying planet. They came home with something new for him every time. Souvenirs, stories, pictures, and videos. They knew how bad he ached to know what was out there on the other side of his window. How bad he wanted to climb on board with them and jet off to see the universe.

To see what else was out there.

To leave this dying, grey world and this horrible war behind him. Only there was this cold place inside of Bee's spark that never wanted to come back. The place in him that hated this war and what it had done to his family. To him.

The part of him that he tired to ignore when it told him he was being lied to.

"Hey!" He chirped happily. Pulling away from Ironhide and rushing over to bounce up and down in a hug against Rider's side. The trio of mechs chuckled at his antics. Outrider hugging him back lightly in his strong grip while Hammerdown knuckled him between his flicking his antennas and Smokescreen flicked a doorwing at him in greeting. One of the few motions that Bumblebee actually had perfected over the vorns. Even if half the time he did it without knowing it.

"How you been, Pip Squeak?" Outrider asked around his laughter. "Been a while."

"I'm okay." Pulling back, but leaning heavily into the larger mech's side he grinned up at him. "I didn't even notice you all were back."

The tri colored Praxian tapped lightly at his chest. "We're not staying long, didn't bother taking out the Dampeners."

Oh.

Yeah.

Spark Dampeners.

Sometimes they were gone so long Bee actually forgot they wore them to help make sure they couldn't be tracked as they frequently left and reentered the guarded atmosphere.

At the words of the smallest scout Bee's happy bouncing slowed to a stop as his doorwings dropped slightly behind him. Bright optics dimming, glancing between the large mechs. "Really? How long until you leave again?"

At the dip in his demeanor Outrider pulled him a little closer and knuckled him between his doorwings. "Tonight."

Those flashy doorwings, marked in the first shade of paint Bee had ever added to his nanites. The deep ebony that his sire wore. The same black Rider and Hammer wore as well. Striped up the middle of the broadening appendages like the way Smokescreen wore them but Bee's striped his chest as well.

Outrider knew it was Sunstreaker who painted the mechling when he asked for his first foreign paint nanites after he hit second frame. The big red mech also knew that knowing Sunstreaker he'd found the best paint he could get a hold of when he sat the mechling down in front of him and helped him with it.

The sensitive appendages lifted slightly at the touch but Bee still sagged at the answer. "Oh."

"Aw come on, Pip Squeak." Smokescreen gently chided pushing away from the table to pull up one of the blasters laying before him and cycle the chamber. "Don't be like that. We'll be back soon, but in the mean time. Why don't we see if you can finally out shot us?"

At the challenge Bee's optics lit up and he grinned. "Careful, Smokey, the Weapons Specialist is my _sire,_ remember? If there is one thing I can do its shoot."

Ironhide threw his head back laughing at that along with Outrider and Hammerdown while Smokescreen just charged his blaster with a low snort and grinned.

"Bring it on, Pip Squeak."

* * *

In the end Bee didn't manage to out shoot Hide or Rider, but he did hit the digital targets more than Smokey or Hammer did. Which of course ensued the unavoidable laughing and taunting, and then the wrestling match. Which then lead to the trio of scouts rolling around on the training room floor trying to beat each other up without actually hurting each other while Bumblebee just sat on the table next to his sire laughing at them. Leaning against Ironhide's thick shoulder the young mechling let himself get lost in the feeling of the playfulness and joy filling the air around him. In the warmth and ease that had come to life in his normally stressed sire's field.

This last few vorns had taken a toll on all of them. It made Bee's spark lighter to feel the actual lighter air around him.

"So where are they going this time?" Bumblebee asked, turning to look into the darker orbs of his sire.

Ironhide snorted, watching as Outrider got a good hold on Smokescreen and swung the lighter mech around while he laughed only for Hammerdown to tackle them both back down to the floor and for it all to start again. At the sound of his son's voice Hide tore his attention away to find those bright orbs he loved so much staring up at him.

He was in no way the palm-sized youngling he once was. He had come a long way by the fifty-fifth vorn mark, but he was still Ironhide's mechling. That would never change. No matter how old he got. He would always be that tiny sparkling Ironhide pulled out of the ruble what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Looking over his bright yellow finish striped with the color Hide wore and those wonderful bright optics the old tribal mech said. "I'm not sure. Somewhere out in the Raid Sector. At least I think that's where it is. I'm not a navigator Bee, I don't read the stars."

Bee smirked at that, bumping against Hide's side again before he let his optics focus over on the antics going on across the room. Grin spreading up his lips he allowed himself to push those nagging bits of cold lingering in his spark away.

Everything was okay. It would be okay.

He'd get what he wanted eventually, and this was his family after all. No bot was lying to him. Keeping things from him maybe, but he'd figure out what it was and he'd face that when he did. For now, he was going to pick his little self up and haul his little aft over there to join that wrestling match while he could. Before the scouts left again.

Which was just what he did.

In a streak of yellow and giggling laughter followed by a rather loud yelp from Outrider when he landed on the bigger mech's back.

* * *

Standing in his office over the ships' bridge watching as the massive ship sliced through the dark of Cybertron's night Optimus Prime did his best to retain his growing anger. He wasn't having much luck though which was why he kept his back from the computer monitor behind him and the three bots that stood next to it. In his silence he could hear the shifting of the younger mech on the other side of that vid call waiting for his response.

He just didn't want to give it.

Fists clenching and unclenching as he stared out at the dark night before him wondering how much it would shatter what little order they had left in this universe if he just started screaming at the top of his vocal processor and never stopped.

"Repeat your casualty report." He growled out, deep baritone shaking the pain of glass he was staring out of. He didn't need to look back to see that Roddy ducked under the tone. The already defeated look in the red, yellow, and orange commander's optics deepening.

However, the young commander sucked up his growing sense of exhaustion and defeat to repeat what he had already said.

"My battleship is gone, it's not salvageable. Hardly anything inside is. Sixty dead, twenty unaccountable, though the odds of finding them now aren't good. We never saw him coming, Optimus. Had Magnus' ship not been in the sector I wouldn't be talking to you know. They weren't out to take prisoners."

Grounding his teeth together Optimus pushed the painful flare in his chest to the side, took a breath, and tried to keep his voice level.

"And this new gun?"

"He only fired twice, if that sums it up for you." Hot Rod said quietly. "I've never seen a weapons system like that. Has Ironhide looked at those specs yet?"

"No." Optimus shook his head, but did not turn around. "He will soon though. Prowl is going over them now."

That was just what the second in command was doing. Standing there next to the monitor scrolling through what little information Hot Rod had to offer about this new toy Megatron had strapped to the _Nemesis's_ bow and just tired to wipe Hot Rod's crew off the face of the planet with. A gun they knew nothing about. On a ship they thought they had downed _vorns_ ago. The _Nemesis_ was supposed to be in a smoldering hole outside the ruble of Kaon. Where it died along with the city it was forged in.

Apparently they had been very wrong in that assumption though. Because now Roddy had lost over half his crew and was currently sitting in front of Magnus' computer leaking.

"Optimus," Roddy said softly, the tone of his voice scrapping against the Prime's spark making him want nothing more than to turn around and comfort his younger half-brother. He couldn't though. "I'm sorry . . . ."

"It's not your fault, Roddy." Elita's voice drifted to the Prime's audios from behind him. The tall, elegant, beautiful, dawn colored femme standing before the monitor. Looking between the screen, her mate's back, then Jazz and Prowl who stood on the other side of the desk looking over what little info they had.

"This is not nearly enough to work with." Prowl's low tone spoke, his dark blue optics lifting to the monitor. "Not even Ironhide will be able to tell what we're dealing with. Not with this. It's not enough data."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Prowl." Hot Rod finally snapped. Those bright optics narrowing and cutting to the Praxian in a burning glare. "I'm sorry I was too busy trying to save my crew from being slaughtered to get a better look at the thing that was trying to kill us all!"

"You are a commander, Hot Rod." Prowl snapped right back at him. "You should have—"

"What!?" Roddy cut him off. "Done _better_?! I _tried_! They're all _dead,_ Prowl! Dead! That's on _me,_ mech! Don't you think I know I didn't do enough!? I was trying!"

"Enough." Optimus bark cut them all off as he turned from the window to glare down at them all. "We will _not_ do this. It is just what he would want. Do you understand me? I will not give him the satisfaction."

Both Roddy and Prowl lowered their gazes but it was Elita that reached out to lay a hand on Optimus' upper arm. Sending a smooth, calm pulse through their bond. For now he could only accept the feeling, and try to return it as he looked around at half his command staff and his younger brother in the wake of what his fallen older brother had done to them all this time.

There was no verbal way to fix this. There was no real way to fix this. None of it.

"There is nothing we can do about what has been done but ready ourselves for what undoubtedly is coming next. Whatever he is up to has to do with what you were looking in to. Finish your reports, care for your crew, stay with Magnus and the lot of you get your afts back here. If Megatron does have a new toy he wants to show off I have no doubt he'll come looking for me next. Now get to work. All of you."

"Yes, Prime." The echo came not only from the monitor screen, but from Jazz and Prowl as well. Optimus didn't wait for further. He simply turned on his heels and headed out of the office with Elita following at his side. He needed out of this stuffy office before he did something stupid like start screaming and never stop.

He needed some time with his vibrant little one.

* * *

Finding Bumblebee was no real chore. One usually just had to look where the largest group of laughter had gathered and Bumblebee was without a doubt smack dab in the middle of it. This evening was no different. One of the lower level rec rooms had become a sort of playground tonight with Bumblebee, his hounds, and an assortment of others.

Optimus strolling into the room with Elita did very little to impact the fun that was the mechling's favorite game of twister that had taken over the middle of the room with the twins, Swoop, Bluestreak, Drift, the hounds, Mirage, Smokescreen, Quickfire, and Flare Up. The sheer amount of doorwings being tested in that tangle of limbs and laughter made Optimus' low spark pick up slightly. It was always entertaining to see the owners of those sensitive appendages get snipping and snappy when somebot got too close to them. The fact that they were the ones that threw themselves into that game was of very little argument when Quickfire or Flare Up started punching mechs for landing on their doorwings.

Strangely enough, it was quite entertaining.

Which was why the towering commander and his mate placed themselves at one of the back tables that Ironhide, Chromia, Ratchet, and Arcee had taken up. Lifted optic ridges greeted them and over the laughter and bickering going on across the room Ironhide spoke.

"I thought you had reports to go over all evening with Jazz and Prowl before you sent Rider, Smokey, and Hammer off again."

For a moment Optimus just sat there. Staring across the room at the sight that was Bumblebee slipping along bigger, stronger frames to find the red dot he was looking for. As odd as it was, this was one of his favorite games that had gotten harder as he got bigger. He could no longer just run around between the twisting maze of limbs and frames to stand on the latest dot that was called out. He actually had to bend and twist like the rest of them. The problem was though he was bigger he wasn't quite big enough to stretch the distances some of the rest of them could.

Bumblebee didn't win twister quite as much as he use too. However, that did nothing to dampen his love of his game. If anything, Optimus was pretty sure the youngling liked it more now that it was something he could test himself with.

Because that was Bumblebee.

Always pushing.

Always testing.

Always with something to prove.

And the high commander of the Autobots wasn't sure how to make him stop. How to make him see that they didn't expect him to try and prove himself in anything. That in all honesty they didn't want him to.

They didn't want him to be a soldier.

They didn't want him to dim like all of them had.

That brilliantly bright, happy, young spark. The notion of tainting it in the ways all of them were now . . . it made Optimus' spark quiver in its chamber. What made it all the more worse though, was that the Prime knew they had no choice.

Prowl would bend the rules of the training test all he wanted for as long as he wanted—none around here would stop him—but eventually Bumblebee would pass. They all knew he would. He was too stubborn and too clever not too. He'd get around it and he'd get what he wanted. Of that they were all perfectly clear on. And then Optimus would have no choice. He'd have no excuse.

Bumblebee was young but he would be old enough very soon. He was old enough now if any of them wanted to admit it. More than that though; he was capable.

He was quick both in frame and processor. Clever, stubborn, and resourceful. He'd spent his whole life watching this collection of talents do what they did best. He'd picked up things along the way.

No, Optimus wasn't foolish enough to think that Bumblebee couldn't do it. He was smart enough to know that he _wouldn't_. Bumblebee wasn't like them. He wasn't a soldier. He wasn't a _killer_.

He wasn't mean enough.

He wasn't cruel enough.

When the moment came—and it would—that Bumblebee either had to kill or be killed there was this very large part in all their sparks that quivered at the notion that he wouldn't have it in him. That he wouldn't do it.

And they would lose him.

"Optimus," Arcee's soft voice prompted. "What's wrong?"

Realizing he'd been staring over at the goofing off youngling far too long with far too dark of a look on his faceplate the Prime turned away to catch his oldest friends' optics again.

"Megatron has a new toy."

The air around them all thickened. Seeming to cool several degrees as struts straightened and armor tightened.

"What happened?" Ratchet pressed.

"He blew up Roddy's ship." Elita answer quietly. "Half the crew is gone. They'd all be gone if Magnus hadn't been close."

"We never received a distress call." Chromia threw in, optics wide and dark. She'd spent the whole orn on a shift on the bridge with Preceptor and Inferno. She knew for fact there had been no call for help.

"That's the problem." Optimus sighed. "Apparently the weapon somehow blocks all radio signals. Roddy never saw them coming, and he had no way to call for help. Magnus only came because they were close enough together to feel when Hot Rod panicked. He's too far away for even me to feel, but he and Magnus have a strong link. He felt him."

"What kind of gun kills radio ways?" Ironhide snapped. "What specs did he manage to get."

"Not many." Optimus conceded, reaching into subspace and pulling out a copy of what Hot Rod had managed to see. Handing it over to his Weapons Specialist, hoping that the expect would see something in the thrown together description that the rest of them hadn't. However, as the nanos clicked by and Hide's optics darkened Optimus felt that tiny sliver of hope fall from his chest.

Shaking his head Ironhide growled. "I don't know . . . . This isn't enough. Some kind of fusion plasma, maybe. Only that stuff burns hot enough to tear up a ship that fast, but that doesn't affect radio waves. If anything it can speed them up. The stuff burns like a solar flare. It's pure hot energy."

Optimus sighed. "Whatever it is it cost us over sixty mechs and a battleship. Once again we're two steps behind him and paying the price."

"So what's to be done about it?" Chromia asked. "That kind of weapon could wipe us all out if he used it right. And the _Nemesis,_ I thought we ended that ship."

"We all did." Elita said. "Apparently we were wrong."

"It was nothing more than a show against Hot Rod." Ratchet's voice drew all their attention to him. "That's the only explanation. This is Autobot space, but he could find us if he wanted too. Just like we can find him. He went after Hot Rod first on purpose. Roddy is a talented commander, but he's not the strategist Magnus is and he's not the leader you are. We all know Megatron, Optimus. He might not know who Roddy really is, but he never liked him, and he knows how protective you are of him. This was a statement. He might not have killed Roddy—maybe that was the plan—he just wanted to make a point out of him. He wanted you to see what he has now. See it and fear it."

Optimus nodded as Ratchet spoke, because yes, that had been what he thought it had been about.

"I know." He replied softly. "I figured as much. That's why I called Magnus back in. _Nemesis_ vanished as quickly as she came about and once again he's lying in weight. For all we know he'd coming for this ship next."

"Then why aren't we on alert?" Ironhide snapped, optic drifting over to his son playing in the floor with his hounds. He had long since lost to Drift's flexibility and Sideswipe's cheating so he was currently getting mauled with licks on the floor next to the mat by Scout and Echo as the two huge, fully grown, black static-hounds jumped all over the mechling they still out sized.

"Red Alert and Prowl are. There is a reason half the staff isn't here. We're in the dead center of Autobot territory. There are two hundred drone sensors in every direction for fifty miles. He won't be able to sneak up on us here. He got the drop on Roddy because he was out in the desert chasing that lead. Megatron will not be so luck here."

"You hope." Jazz's voice appeared before he did, and despite how long they had all lived with and known the mech they all still jumped a little at the shadow of the Autobots appearing out of seemingly nowhere. His low, smooth voice pitched into an angry rumble. Appearing from seemingly nowhere as well as Mirage could ever do. And Jazz didn't have the vanishing drives.

He was simply that good.

Turning his attention to his left Optimus found the sleek, silver mech leaning against the table as if he'd been there all along. Holding a cube of what looked suspiciously like highgrade wearing his visor darker than normal.

Jazz was not happy.

That was painfully clear.

"I know you have never been a fan of the sit and wait game, Jazz, but this is not your call."

"Oh I know, my Prime." The saboteur drawled taking a long swig of his drink. "And I'm not questioning your decision. I'm just pissed and I want to kill something. Unfortunately, your bastard of a big brother went off and hid again so I can't tear out his throat as much as I'd like too. That is, unless you'd let me borrow the scout's ship and go looking fo—"

"No." Optimus cut him off with a low growl. "We've been over this."

"But he's hiding something out there." Jazz snapped back at him. "Or at least he's looking for something. And you believe it! If you didn't you wouldn't have sent Roddy out there."

"Roddy had a whole battle cruiser and crew, Jazz." Optimus felt a headache coming on. They'd been having this argument for over a vorn now, and it seemed no matter how many times Optimus told him no, the third in command refused to take that for an answer. He was now using this latest disaster as fuel for the fire of his argument even if in Optimus' optics it was doing nothing to help his case. "And they were slaughtered."

"They were big and obvious." Jazz shot back. "Mega-idiot would never even know I was there! This is what I _do,_ boss bot, if you'd let me do my job—"

"I said _no_!" It came out far louder than the Prime meant it to. Drawing the sounds and motions of the rec room to a jarring halt. Every optic in the room snapping around to find the table at the back that held over half of the command staff. Optimus froze along with Jazz, looking back at the assortment of his soldiers and family before he lifted his chin, cleared his throat, and effectively dismissed them all to go back to what they were doing. It took a few nanos longer, but eventually the room fell back into motion.

Apart from Bumblebee.

Jazz, who was now glaring down at the table in stewing anger quietly growled out. "Yes, Prime."

Optimus sighed at the reaction. Reaching out and cupping his friend on the shoulder.

"Jazz," He said quietly.

When the silver mech didn't pull away it was a good sign, but when he sighed himself and nodded it was even better.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just . . . well . . . ya know."

"Yes." Optimus nodded, dropping his hand. "We all are."

It was true.

"Hey, bots?" The tentative, question of a greeting drew all their all optics to the side to find Bumblebee standing there with one of his smaller but just as bright smiles as he looked around the table. The huge forms of his grown hounds, who both stood able to look dead center of his chest now, were milling about him as they usually were. Scout's deep, dark black optics as cutting and intelligence as ever while Echo's glowed with a brightness that didn't seem possible in those deep black depths. "What's wrong?"

Jazz reached back in a blur of movement and pulled the youngling to his side. The smaller frame fitting in as tightly as he ever did. Snuggling in and looking up at Jazz with expectant kind of optics, but no more questions were asked when the spy lay his chin atop his head and held him there.

When the quiet murmur of nothing came Bee knew it wasn't true, but he decided not to press. Instead he just settled in there where Jazz had pulled him. Content to be pulled up and held in the saboteur's lap even if technically he wasn't young enough to be carried around like a sparkling anymore. No matter how much Ironhide said that as long as he could still be picked up he was still young enough to be carried around like a sparkling.

Right now Bee didn't mind.

It didn't take his spark to know something was going on. Something was wrong, and they didn't want to tell him yet. That much was obvious, but instead of pushing like a large part of him wanted to do he just settled in there against Jazz's warm frame and grinned across the table at Hide and Mia who looked at him with those fond looks they so often wore when they thought he wasn't paying attention.

He sat there for a few klicks. Content in this warm place in his might as well be big brother's arms while his hounds curled up on the floor around the chair they were in.

He actually felt them in spark before he sensed their fields, but the last thing he expected was when Sides did fill his field of vision would be him twirling a finally crafted blade between his fingers.

When the big mechs joined the table, Bee's bright optics focused on that glittering black blade with the swirling silver handle. He knew Sides and Sunny made their own weapons most of the time, but he'd never seen that knife before. Perking up at the sight of them he dislodged Jazz's chin from his head making the larger mech pull back with laugh. Bee tilted his head and grinned at them.

"What's that?" He chirped, earning a snort from the crimson and the golden mechs before with a flick of his wrist and a jar of movement Sides closed the distance between them and Bee found the cold point of the blade pressing into this throat.

His field flared in shock, but he didn't dare yelp.

Then Ironhide's and Jazz's low, warning, snarls echoed, but Bee found himself looking up in the teasing optics of the younger twin. A part of the young mech wondered if this was some kind of a prank, but there was something deeper in the playful look the red frontliner was giving him as he tapped the blade against his neck a few more times before pulling it away, twirling it around, and handing him the hilt.

"Don't you know a knife when you see one, Bee?"

At the teasing snide Bee laughed back at him snatching the knife away. Sending a pulse to Scout and Echo to keep the glaring hounds under the table from doing something like jumping up and snipping for some of the more sensitive parts of Sides' lower anatomy. Quickly distracted by the dangerously pretty weapon he leaned forward on the table to look over the blade.

Sides leaned down on the table next to him while Sunstreaker leaned pretty much against his brother's hip to hold himself up. Well that is until Ratchet smacked the younger twin hard over his black audio horns earning a yelp and a jerk away followed by a glare at the big medic.

"Hey!" The red twin snapped.

"That wasn't funny, Sideswipe." Ratchet huffed back at him.

"What?" The frontliner shrugged, ignoring the glaring Hide and Jazz were still doing at him. He was smarter than to ignore Chromia though and sent the blue femme a small smile before she huffed and rolled her optics at him. "Oh come on, the mechling has to learn to expect the unexpected."

"Yes, because he needs to anticipate _you_ pulling a knife on him." Ratchet grumbled back at him. "Don't be a glitch, Sideswipe."

"That is probably one of those crazy unexpected things to prepare for though." Bee muttered, off hand as he twisted the knife back and forth watching it catch and throw the light.

Sideswipe straightened up at that, turning to stare down at the little yellow mech with amused optics as he snorted. "I don't know if I should be insulted by that or not."

The table laughed at that as Bee looked back up at him and grinned.

"Both."

Sides snorted down at him again, knuckling him between his antennas earning himself that bubbly laughter as the mechling pulled away to hide away in Jazz's hold. Jazz tightened his grip on him with one last glare at Sideswipe and his cheeky smirk back before he too had to shrug and admit the big mech did have a point. Though he could have gone about it a lot better. Still, any chance for a lesson that Prowl wasn't rigging for failure Jazz would take.

He feared Bumblebee out there where he couldn't watch him as much as all the rest of them, but Jazz was not going to stop teaching him because of it.

Lowly he muttered. "Why did he go for that spot, Lil' Bee?"

At the question Bee sat up again. Twisting in his lap to gaze up into the saboteur's bright visor. Lifting a hand he pointed to the section of his neck Sides had pressed the knife. "Here?"

Jazz nodded.

Bee's optics unfocused for a moment in thought before the answer flashed through his processor, pressing his finger into the softer cabling and wiring that bunched together at the top of his neck and the underside of his chin. Technically it was his throat but the highest point of that was a very vulnerable place on every single Cybertronians alive. It was the point where three major inner parts connected together in one tight little jumble.

"First strut cord, top of the jugular vein, and vocal processor cluster. It's all bunched together right there."

Jazz nodded, again. "What else?"

"Sever that then it's pretty much over without immediate medical treatment."

"Why?"

"First strut cord is what protects the neural cords that allow us to use our inner comms. If you bust it no calls can go out or in. The jugular is the quickest way to leak out. And the vocal processor keeps them from making any real noise."

"That's right." Jazz nodded stiffly, spark both proud and sad that Bumblebee knew one of the quickest and easiest ways to kill a bot.

"Yep." The youngling said, throwing his gaze over to Ratchet's dim ones. "See, I pay attention when you teach me how frames work."

"I know." Ratchet responded quietly. Just as he knew Bee paid attention to every other lesson he'd ever had. Including that one.

"Yeah." Sideswipe nodded a feeling similar to the one in Jazz's chest in both him and his twins'. "That's about right."

"So," Bee drawled, attention falling back down to the knife he was twisting around in his fingers. "You mechs made this one?"

"Yes." Sunstreaker answered.

"It's pretty." Bee commented, watching the dark blade throw light across the table.

"It's yours." Sunstreaker said.

Bumblebee yanked his gaze up, shock ripping through his field again as his optics widened. "What? _Really_?"

"Yep." Sides popped the 'p', giving Ironhide a glance before looking back at the young mech. "If Hide doesn't kill us for giving you dangerous toys to play with. You're old enough to have one. You still can't make plasma on your own for blasters and your too little to hold up a real cannon yet, but that you can handle. You know how. Besides, we can give you some more lessons."

"Really?" He bounced a bit in Jazz's lap before throwing his gaze over to Hide. "Can I keep it!?"

Ironhide looked long and hard at the grin and the glitter in his optics. He knew what was really going on here. This was the twins feeling bad about being a part of the tests. Of keeping things from Bee and so much more. And technically there right. It was about time he had something to carry around with him. His subspace pockets were developing and while they were right about him being too young for his frame to make enough extra plasma to power a blaster or too hold up a cannon that knife he could handle well.

He knew how.

Besides, as much as he hated the notion of the mechling needed a weapon it was time he had something on him to fight with at all times. He didn't have claws or size to use. So with a slow nod Hide consented and Bee chirped happily. Jumping up to hug the twins his laughter picked up all their sparks a least a little bit.

For a little while.

* * *

Ironhide and Chromia's room that they use to share with their still portable sized mechling had long since been expanded to hold another little room off to the side. The room that Bee called his own. It wasn't much. Just a square off to the side with a door that opened back up into the main room that Hide and Mia shared, just across from the door to the washracks. But he had a big window and a nice sized berth big enough for his growing frame and his hounds. Even if some nights still found Bee curled up with his creators most nights he recharged on his own.

Tonight was no different.

After the yawning started the bots broke apart and Bumblebee found himself tucked into his own sheets with his many pillows and his hounds purring happily at the end of his berth. A kiss pressed to his forehead by Mia and Hide both followed by a soft stroke to his antennas before they left him to his dreams and headed to their own berth. Like any other night.

Only this night, was not going to be quite like the other nights.

Bumblebee wasn't sure what it was.

He'd been on cloud nine for most of the evening with his gift from the twins—the present he had tucked away into subspace, the slight weight he could feel from where it was comforting in a way he wasn't sure how to explain—and the evening of games. He had picked himself up from his down about failing. He felt better, and he would face it again with another plan as soon as he got Prowl to let him take the test again.

It was only when the ship grew quiet and he found himself laying there in the darkness staring at the pillow in front of his face that something wrong started to settle in his chest. This dark feeling. This dread.

It had been quite a long time since a feeling like this had come over him, and unsure what to do with it at first he shoved it aside and told his worrisome spark to hush. He was tired, he wanted recharge. Drifting off brought him no relief though.

* * *

 _A bright flash, and a drop straight down into brightness Bumblebee slammed into something hard and solid enough to be ground . . . only it wasn't. Because ground didn't glow white. Startled, the young mech shoved himself up. Optics and doorwings flaring wide as he rapidly scrambled for his feet. Glancing around in every direction of this strange, bright, white world._

 _"What the slag . . . ?" He muttered to himself, spinning and staring. Trying to figure out where the frag he was and what was going on. Then, some kind of familiar tug yanked on his spark leaving him to pause then slowly twist to the side and find himself staring down at what looked to be a robo-cat._

 _Only it was black and gold with optics that glowed as golden as little suns._

Umm . . . .

 _The thought earned him an amused tilt of lips from the feline mech before it opened its mouth and spoke. "You are the one making me look like this, Young Spark, or have you really forgotten?"_

 _Then, suddenly, with a flash Bee understood. He remembered._

 _"Star?" He asked, stepping closer and kneeling down._

 _An amused purr. "That's correct. I was beginning to think you had forgotten me."_

 _Bee shook his head quickly. Remembering all those dreams and times this familiar voice had drifted through his spark. Had told him something. Had lead him somewhere. "No. No, I didn't forget. It's just . . . been a long time since I heard you."_

 _And it had . . . in fact, the last time Bee could remember hearing this voice or seeing this strange cat like mech had been over forty vorns ago when Smokey and Rider had first come home._

 _"Yes."_

 _His friend, the one he had heard and seen through his dreams and spark since the time he was a sparkling._

 _Now maybe, on some level, it did accrue to Bee that even if he was dreaming that maybe this should be a considered to be weird, but honestly, Bee did a lot of weird things. Remembering the voice in his spark that he had talked to a long time ago and once or twice saw in his dreams wasn't what he would consider all that strange. At least not for him. There were a lot of things about him and that he could do that weren't . . . normal._

 _He knew that._

 _Even in a dream land he knew that._

 _But, he was this way. He didn't know how to be anything or any way else. He didn't want to be._

 _Even if he wasn't sure how to really explain some of things he did to his family. Which was why he never told them a whole lot of it._

 _"Yes, it has been quite a while. However, you have not forgotten, but even more so you don't seem so concerned about me or this place."_

 _Bumblebee shrugged. "I think we both know I do a lot of . . ._ strange _things."_

 _This seemed to amuse Star because he gave another purr of amusement. "That I do."_

 _Bee grinned back at him, plopping down to his aft on in this strange white world giving a look around._

 _"Where are we?"_

 _Star snorted. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Young Spark."_

 _Bee lifted an optic ridge. "Hey, this is my dream, I think I deserve to know where I am."_

 _"I won't even ask you to analyses the strangeness of that statement." Star lifted an optic ridge of his own. An odd look considering he was a robo-cat._

 _Bee leaned forward, elbows on his knees looking his_ friend _over. "What are you?"_

 _"A friend."_

 _It was the same answer he'd given vorns ago, but now Bee was old enough to know that wasn't answer enough. "You look like a cat I use to have. Well, apart from the colors."_

 _"You gave me this form." Star shrugged at him._

 _"_ I _gave it to you?" He repeated, wondering. "Does that mean you're a figment of my imagination?"_

 _"In a manner of speaking yes, but at the same time no."_

 _"Well that's not much of an answer." Bee huffed back at him._

 _"You're not yet asking the right questions." Star replied._

 _"The right questions?" Bee tilted his head. "I don't understand."_

 _"No, I don't imagine you would. No yet at least. That however, is not the point, my Young Spark. I have stayed silent as long as I could, but unfortunately that is no longer an option."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Because of this."_

 _Then in a flash Bee was tumbling through darkness. Flares of light filing his vision with half pictures and loud echoes filling his audios with half sounds._

 _Burning red optics, sharp fangs, swirling red sand, darkness,_ so much _darkness, brown armor, gold armor, red armor, black armor, burning flames, echoing explosions, and voices. So many voices._

 _Whispers and breaths tickling at the edges of his mind. Calling in words that didn't make sense._

 _His spark squeezed in his chest and he cried out in pain._

 _Then, over it all, came Star's voice._

 _"You must go find it, Young Spark. You must stop it. Only you can. Go! Go find it. But first, you must fight."_

 _Then it all slammed to a sudden, crashing stop and Bumblebee found himself staring up through the darkness of Cybertron's night, through the thick vapor clouds that blocked out the stars. That was when he saw it. Cutting through the night like a blade through bare protoform. The massive, sharp bow of a ship. Black as death with a symbol he knew all too well painted in glowing purple paint along the side of it._

 _The_ Nemesis _._

 _But . . . but that ship was gone. Wasn't it?_

 _Staring up above him with widening optics, something tugged his conscious and he found himself looking down only to see the bright, glittering hull of the_ Eternity. _His home._

 _A sick feeling knotted in the bottom of his tanks and suddenly he knew what had been wrong at the table this evening._

* * *

Bolting upright with a shout, dripping in coolant, and quivering all over Bumblebee threw his gaze around his room with wide optics. Only half aware of Scout and Echo standing over him on the berth, whimpering and licking, calling through their pack bond trying to get him to answer. Trying to get him to explain.

He didn't have time.

With a gasp he curled inward, grasping at his chest as his spark gave a hard, hot, twist. Sending spikes of pain through every vein in him. Gritting his teeth to the pain he drew in a gasp. Focusing inward and trying to figure out what this malicious feeling was. In that nano the dream caught back up with his waking processor and his optics blew wide.

"Oh no." He whispered.

Throwing himself out of his berth in a tangle of sheets, blankets, pillows, and hounds Bee fell twice before he managed to slam the open button of his door and burst into Hide and Mia's room.

"Hide!" He cried out, voice breaking and spark screaming. Unaware that his panic as much as his voice was what shot the massive mech upright in her berth followed by the smaller, thinner form of his mate. He was already at their berth though by the time their gazes swung to him.

"Bumblebee?" Chromia was quickly up on her knees in the berth trying to get a hold of the scrambling, trembling, sweat covered mechling. Taking in his terrified wide optics and quivering doorwings. Then he was latching hold of Ironhide's huge frame shaking his sire as he glanced about the room.

"Hide, they're here!" He shouted, voice shaking along with his frame as he tired to get a hold of his angry spark that wouldn't let go of that hot, eerie darkness that seemed to be seeping in from every angle around him.

He knew this darkness.

He had felt it before.

"What are you talking about!?" Ironhide finally got a good hold of him and pulled him close. Trying to get a better grip on the quivering youngling, trying to understand what the pit was wrong with him.

"MEGATRON!" Bee shouted, and then the world exploded into fire and chaos.

* * *

 ***devious laughter***

 **I'll just saying it now, you'll might want to buckle up now because part four is going to be one pit of a ride.**

 **So, there you have it. The beginning of Part Four. I hope you all liked it, can't wait to see what you all have to say. The next chapter will hopefully be up soon because this semester is _over_ tomorrow. However, I'm going to have surgery Wednesday so depending how all that goes I might be slowed down a bit. **

**Thanks for reading!**

 **-Jaycee**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Thank you all for the reviews!**

 **Have a chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 2

Blackness.

Static.

Heat.

Pressure.

 _Pain._

A whimper tore through his chest and though he tried to shake him head all it got him was a internal pounding from his audios and a hot jar of pain.

 _What?_

 _Where?_

Forcing his optics open a flash of fear went through Bumblebee when the blackness didn't change. It was only when his head stopped spinning that he realized the blackness wasn't his optics. It was Hide's armor.

Ironhide had twisted a nano before the blast hit. Latching hold of both Bee and Chromia and rolling to the floor with them. The hard land cracked one of Bee's winglets and bent a doorwing at an awkward angle as well as put far too much weight on Mia's lighter frame but when the ceiling came down in fire and metal around them that was the last thing the huge weapons specialist was worried about.

A static field scream tore his link with hounds, but it was far from Bee's mind as pain seared up his main strut. Senses screaming in his doorwings and winglets. It was the dull white noise silence that was the worse though. Trying to shake his head, trying to hear as his pulled back from Hide's armor, trying to see what was happening.

What he found made his spark clench all over again.

Attack.

They were under attack.

Hot, dark, eerie blackness seeped through his awareness.

 _Megatron._

Panic surged through his chest and the world came back in the screaming of alarms, roaring wind, crackling flames, fracturing metal, and the cries of his whole family echoing in both his chest and his audios.

"HIDE!" It was a far too high pitch a cry considering the mechling was more or less in his sire's audio, but considering Hide didn't move until Bumblebee glanced around them to find the burning ceiling caving in and he started shoving it was safe to say the big mech's audios were ringing just as bad as Bee's.

The second yell worked though. That or the fear coursing through the three way creator creation link that ran between the three of them did. Shaking his head with a groan Ironhide managed to find some leverage to haul his weight of the smaller frames he'd pin under him for protect.

Chromia coughed hard with the smoke and dust as her vents were suddenly free to breath. A groan tearing from Bee as he tried to pull his weight off his leaking sensor appendages. He hardly felt them in favor of trying not to panic at the angry red world all around him. Hot, sticky, smoky, and swelling of darkness.

It was only when Ironhide shoved himself to his knees, casting his dark optics in horror around that the truth of what was happening really sank in. It was the same time each of them actually heard the screaming going on in the comms.

 **"—get those Primus damn turbines clear! Fire rear thrusters! Level this damn sled out!"** Optimus was yelling in a tone Bee had never heard before. The deep baritone cracking through the air ways like thunder.

 **"The thrusters are gone!"** That was Inferno. **"Engine five and four are gone to! Scratch that—we just lost one and two as well!"**

 **"One engine isn't going to keep us airborne!"** Red Alert screamed into the air ways.

Another boom roared through the ship and the whole shuttle gave a loud cry of metal agony in explosive fire as the whole thing rolled hard to the left sending Bee and his creators sliding headlong into the side of the berth. But considering in that moment he rest of their ceiling caved in a rain of fire that had Ironhide latching hold of the pair of them again and yanking them into his armor. Bumblebee felt his strong arms tighten with the quicken of fear in his chest as well as Chromia's thin strong arms tighten even more. Yanking him closer as the ship rolled and bucked with another audio shattering explosion over the roar of thunder and the hissing of searing wind bursting through the shattered ship armor to fed the building infernos tearing Bee's home to pieces as it spiraled out of the sky.

Another explosion.

Another hot boom of fire.

An almost chuckle through the darkness in his chest.

Bee screamed before he knew he had done it when the so cold it burned darkness hit him. Curling inward with the burn through is chest.

 _"I see you."_

Bee's optics flashed open, shock ripping down his main back strut.

That . . . _that_ was _not_ Megatron.

Chromia's gripped tightened on him, but then they both were being hauled up to their feet.

"Up!" Ironhide hissed. "Up! Go! Now! We have to move!"

Stumbling with the ache in his chest and the ringing in his audios Bee hardly felt Mia yank him with her as Hide shoved them through the falling metal and fire. Some level of his processor was free enough to whistle for his hound and to feel the moment of panic when they didn't respond until they came leaping through the wall of fire that use to be his berthroom down to slid around his feet. Latching hold of armor, pulling and pushing, as they all tired to get out of the raging fire that was rapidly consuming their world around them.

Whether or not where they were going was going to be any better Bee had no idea, but under the coldness that wouldn't let him breathe was the fear and pain echoing from his family through his chest. They had to get out.

They had to help.

The hallway was no better than their berthroom when the whole ship gave another buck and roll, the screaming of alarms echoing over the crushing and exploding metal, it all grated hard against Bumblebee's audios. Not to mention how much the added boost of what his doorwings and winglets could pick out was making his head spin. It was his spark that was doing him the most damage at the moment though.

It was his spark that nearly put him on his knees when they made it to the hallway. Leaving the young mechling stumbling and whimpering, only Mia's hard grip on his arm keeping him from face plating the shattering floor.

His chest felt like it was on fire, but it was a fire born of cold. Burning ice claws circling the glowing ball of life in his chest until it felt like somehow across the comics field that sparks connected on it was going to tear it out. It _actually_ hurt. Left him gasping and shuttering, whole frame at war with itself as it tried to fight a force it didn't understand. For there was no active threat in front of him. No real bot trying to do him harm.

At least, not that he knew or could see.

Whoever— _what_ ever—this was, it was real all right and it wouldn't fraggin' let go.

 _"Stop!"_ He screamed back over the link. Lifting and shoving every blockade he had in an effort to make it let go. To make it stop. There was a problem there though. Because as gifted as Bumblebee was with his spark, for all the strange things he could do, blocking others out had never been one of those things he actually learned how to do. He had no need for it. His whole world around him was full of bots that didn't mind his prodding and his bonding. They let him in without fuss and he had always eagerly did the same in return.

His defenses on this front had never been practiced.

Bumblebee had no idea what he was even supposed to be doing.

 _"No."_ The chilly, raspy, echo of baritone almost seemed to be laughing at him. _"No, I don't think I will."_

Another painful yelp drew from his throat, however, it was hard to tell if it had to do with the harsh burn through his spark or the giant piece of burning ceiling that nearly landed on his head had Scout not thrown his whole frame into both Mia and Bee and shoved them out of the way with a harsh bark.

 _"I see you. Come on now, little spark. Come on out and let me end you!"_

No.

No, that was not Megatron.

Bee didn't know who it was, but he really didn't want to find out.

Another explosion and it seemed he wasn't going to need to, because the already rolling battleship gave one last violent surge against the onslaught and lost its fight.

Bumblebee's very existence took a rather sudden and violent drop straight down.

* * *

" _OPTIMUS_!" Trailbreaker's voice screamed over the repercussions of the latest blast. "WE'RE GOING DOWN!"

The Prime couldn't find it in him to turn back and say a thing to the struggling black mech at the ships controls. There was nothing any of them could do now. Nothing but stand there before the huge panel of rapidly cracking glass and stare. Stare as a harsh beam of yellow light tore from the jagged black ship hanging over them and sliced into the west half of the ship like a charged energon blade through protoform. The ship's armored hull might as well have been none existence for the amount good it did in stopping the blast. Only charred black metal and burning flames left in its path, and Optimus could do nothing but stand there on the bridge clinging to the somewhat stability of the captain's chair as quite literally his entire world was sent into a burning downward spiral.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Prowl's voice echoed over the screaming sirens and the comm chatter of panicked bots. The once level tone of the black and white mech pitched into a fear Optimus hadn't heard for a long, _long_ time but even that he could do nothing to help. All he could do was tear his gaze away from the trail of fire and metal splattering through the clouds behind him and set his optics through the thick billows of black smoke to see the rapidly approaching expanse of grey below them.

Spark twisting in its chamber he realized the _Eternity_ was pitching in its spinning fall. Only the gravity drives—that were somehow still active—were keeping the bots somewhat on their feet. But it was about to get them all killed. The ship was trying to fall straight which meant the bridge was going to directly impact.

"CLEAR THE BRIDGE!"

Eight pairs of optics whirled on him.

Optimus snarled at the lot of them. "That was an order! DO IT _NOW_!"

"But, Prime—"

"Get out!" With a yank and a shove through the smoke and crumbling metal Optimus took Inferno by the arm and shoved him toward the door. "Get inward, however you can! The drives are holding, there is nothing more we can do from here! Move! Now!"

The second command was obeyed; frames scrambling through the smoke and fire and the rapid pitching of the screaming ship. But even if Optimus managed to get his towering frame and the bridge staff that had been on hand that night clear by a few burning hallways the unstoppable collision still blasted backward with a shock wave that threw them all into black nothingness.

* * *

The crash—from the outside of the dying ship—could be called a kind of horrifyingly beautiful. 300,000 tons of metal and glass slamming bow first into stone made an explosion like nothing else left on Cybertron ever could. Since the fall of the last Metrotitan nothing on Cybertron had come close to being quite that big. The _Eternity_ was not the largest ship ever forged in the planet's history—far from it—but it was the biggest one left. Seven thousand feet from bow to aft made one very large arrow of impact.

Torn to pieces by an ion cannon or not the ship still had enough mass and speed that when it hit the deafening percussion that followed rippled the waves of the Mercury sea over six thousand miles away. The shock wave it made would have obliterated everything it hit within a hundred mile radius had there been anything around for it to touch. Leaving a crater straight down thirty miles deep and killing half on board personal in two nanos flat.

It was nothing short of a natural disaster, and it made one nastily sneering tyrant on the _Nemesis'_ bridge a gleefully cackling mess.

However, that tyrant was not Megatron.

Megatron stood to the right of a tangled web of medical equipment in various severity of cabling and wires with his arms crossed and red optics narrow staring through the tinted glass of the _Nemesis'_ bridge watching the ion cannon on the bow smoke against the dark night. It could fire no more for now. The massive gun had drained almost all of the ships power reserves leaving them virtually dead in the air. Not to mention it stole nearly the entire ration supply for the whole army for a decacycle every time it fired.

It was decimating to both what it hit and the one who fired it though Megatron knew better then probably any other bot alive that great power came at great cost.

One of his cost was strapped to the bow of his ship, the other was seated in what had been his chair.

A part of Megatron had swore to never call anything Master again, but unfortunately that part of the fallen prince was now buried so deep in the darkness of favorable slavery it didn't even know it was betraying itself anymore.

"They have been shot down, my Master." His deep baritone echoed over the raspy cackling of the huge black mech slouched in the middle of all that medical tubing in the chair. The gangly thin, emaciated mech wheezed out another cackle. Fire optics glowing through the dimness of the busy bridge. Though within nanos the laughter turned to a series of achingly horrible coughs leaving the little mini medic to scramble forward and try to stop it.

Not a bot on the dark bridge dared comment or even lift their optics to the sight ancient mech's struggle with something as simple as breathing. Megatron had already killed three this morning for looking wrong at the resurrected embodiment of evil.

The snatch from the gates of the pit might be miraculous but it was not yet complete. Shockwave was a dastardly evil genius, but there were limits to what even he had been able to do to help the comatose mech that Megatron finally found. It would take time. However, waiting was not one of Megatron's strong points.

He itched under his armor for energon and justice. The dark voices in his helm and spark—one of which belonged to the one on his right doing most of his thinking for him now—demanded the death of all those that stood in their way. Especially his younger brother.

But now, they needed the death of one more.

However, Megatron did not understand why.

When the coughing fit ended those pit colored optics narrowed the settling ship far below.

"He lives. They both do."

Megatron jarred.

"No grounder could survive that!?"

"Oh you still have much to learn, my apprentice." The dark mech chuckled. "This one is no ordinary bot and your brother is a Prime."

Megatron snarled at the title.

"Killing him and this interesting runt will not be as easy as you think, do not make the mistake of thinking otherwise. Send out the troops. Pick off the survivors."

Optics narrowing Megatron turned his gaze out over the world bellow them through the dark planes of glass. The ship might not be able to do anymore damage for the time being but his Decepticons could. Rolling his thick shoulders the fallen prince locked his gaze on the sniffling fool slumped over in the corner pouting.

"Starscream!"

The brown jet flinched up right.

"Get down there and _kill_ them!"

Dozens of mechs sprang into action with a cry of 'yes, Lord Megatron' leaving the massive flight frame standing alongside his grinning master. As the bots sprang into action the bridge went quiet as the two mechs were left alone. It was only after a moment that a question managed to rise through the dark cloud suffocating Megatron's spark.

His optics narrowed through the fog in his mind and he glanced down at the seated Fallen in his command chair.

"Who . . . _what_ interesting runt?"

With a crackling sizzle the Fallen rattled his beard crests before waving a long clawed hand at the mech as a pulse of dark energy surged between them. The once prince, turned gladiator, risen warlord flinched with the cold burn of energy as the fog decided again and the question drifted away as the lanky mech growled.

"Do not concern yourself with it. Just find him and kill him."

* * *

The first thing Bee registered was pain.

Burning pain.

The throbbing kind that made it feel like a bot could actually _feel_ the nerve receptors pounding back and forth with the aching of signals rushing to and from the area and the processor.

It felt like his whole frame was on fire. A special kind of agony born of doorwings, winglets, and young armor. His whole neural net screaming with too many sensations and aches to process. In the end the whole thing was forced to narrow down to one definition of 'hurt' and screw the rest of trying to define what was wrong with him.

Instead of telling him all that was broken his frame was settling for a summary of really rather fragged up and pushed it all to the back of his processor. Turning all processing power on forcibly booting through the slowed down procedures, allowing him the glory of sight.

Only to wish a nano afterward that maybe he hadn't.

At first it was nothing but a blurry mess of billowing black and dancing red. Taking far too long for Bumblebee's processor to figure through before he realized what he was laying on his belly looking at was in fact a world clouded by rolling black smoke cut trough by licking flames. Broken bends of shattered metal, crushed walls, fractured supports, sparking power cells, and crumbling stone.

Shattered.

Broken.

Burning.

His whole world was in pieces around him.

Laying there in the ruble the reality of it all took a moment to fully process. He could see it, oh how he could see it, but it was almost like he _couldn't_.

It was all just too horrible to believe. Too wrong to be possible.

There was just no way.

There just wasn't.

This couldn't be his world. His home. This couldn't be what was left of it.

Dark and dying.

 _Dying_.

It was with that one thought that the reality of it all came crashing back in. All the pain and all the sounds. His frame came alive with squealing agony as his audios picked up groaning metal, falling stone, and . . . quiet. Far too quiet.

A whimper of pain left the young mech when he tried to lever his arms under him and lift his weight. Every muscle and cable he had protested the action. Pleading with him to just lay there and call for help, but his spark was doing dizzy clenches in his chest and he was too afraid to know what he'd find if he reached out at the moment. So instead the forced his frame to obey him. Ignoring the leaks of blue running all over his dented and soot covered once bright plating. It accrued to him that the dark tinge to his plating was probably a bad thing but he forced his processor onto other things. Like figuring how to get up with the heavy beam laying on his back. It was crushing both his winglets and his doorwings sending all kinds of dizzy signals through his neural net.

It took a few twists and shoves but he managed to wiggle free of the biggest one over his back. Shifting and shuffling until he freed himself with a hard bang. Only once he was free of the beam did trying to breathe through the hot clouds of thick smoke and dust left him coughing and wheezing in an effort to try and breathe through the thick heat. A whole frame on fire with pain made the choking and wheezing even worse. Sending the wounds all over his frame into glaring alarms that made him dizzy enough that the whole world went blurry again.

Panting through the pain Bumblebee tried to focus enough to haul his frame upright but he did more falling then standing for a few klicks. Eventually the young mech got his feet, but all that accomplished was the feeling of being shot through the spark as he finally _looked_ at what was around him.

The crumbled shell of a once mightily battle had buckled into a thousand different pieces. Some of it shattering apart with the impact never to be anything but dust again, but it was the extremely strong design that Hot Rod had come up with that was the only reason Bumblebee and what was left of the crew among this ruble were still breathing. Most of the inner structure survived the crash and with it a good many lives. But that didn't mean it wasn't a waking nightmare of the little yellow mech that tilted his head back and stared through growing pools of coolant in his optics to what had once been his entire world laying in broken crumbles around him.

Bent metal, licking flames, falling stone.

Sheer walls of rock, burnt and scorched what looked to be _miles_ straight up.

How far had they sunk down?

How hard did they hit?

Who was still—

Every thought in Bee froze up in one terrifying notion.

Where was everybot?

"MIA!" The scream tore through him in half wail half binary click of a sparkling, but at that point, he didn't care. He didn't care about anything other than finding his creators. His family. "HIDE!"

It was with that that the scrambling started. Pain forgotten he took off at a climbing run through piles of stone, broken glass, and stone. Digging, throwing, and pleading both out loud and in his head.

They couldn't be gone.

He couldn't be alone.

It just _wasn't_ possible!

Tears choking his voice and stalling his already choking vents through the smoke Bee threw himself over ship struts and snapped beams. Throwing aside anything he was big enough to move and sliding around all the other stuff he wasn't. The whole time screaming at the top of his vocal processor for somebot— _anybot_ —to answer him.

The far more intelligent idea of using the gift he was born with to find the sparks he knew by each different frequency and living pulse flew right out the window the moment the fear set in turning the mechling into a scared creature his age had every right to be. Alone and so very afraid.

In short, he panicked.

Running, climbing, screaming, searching; Bee wasn't sure how long he did any of it. He just knew he didn't get very far before a beam he'd been balanced on gave under his feet and he went plummeting down in a failing crash. Landing on his aft with a pained squeak, but for the most part unharmed. Shaken still, but okay.

However, it did him little good to clear his head so he was up again in a nano trying to scramble forward but this time before the words flew from his mouth they cut off in a gutted choke. Optics stretching wide Bee froze, staring in complete bewildered shock at the pearl white mech with ghostly pale optics standing before him. A long, dangerous blade glittered at his back, but a sly smile curled up his lips. It wasn't the smile that Bee stared at though. Instead it was the claw he had pressed to his lips in a 'shush'. But that was not what stalled Bumblebee. What froze up every fiber of his being was the translucent form.

At first glance he'd thought the mech was real, but the longer he looked he realized . . . it wasn't.

But this was no hologram either. No hologram looked like air currents fading in and out of sight. They had pixels. They could look solid too. This wasn't solid, if Bee focused on him he could see the crumbling metal behind the form.

Optics widening he stood there and stared.

Processor locking on the strangeness of it before something familiar struck. That pearl white color and those ghostly pale optics. Small frame, sharp claws, and that sword. He _remembered_ this mech. From long, long ago.

A mech that saved his life.

That died doing it.

Bee mumbled. " _Cyber_?"

The pale figure smiled behind his finger letting that claw drop before he nodded just once and glanced upward. Bee followed his gaze, out of the habit of following direction, and caught sight of the flash of a seeker's wing overhead. Vorns of lessons and instinct kicked in a flash causing him to shrink down and back into the shadow of a broken wall. Going as still as he possibly could and clenching his frantically beating spark to try to calm its pulses. He didn't have a Dampener, he no real way to hide, but the calmer a spark was the harder its frequency was to pick up.

Only when the bright flash of armor didn't return did Bee let his optics fall back to the form that had warned him.

But it was gone.

Cyber was gone . . . or . . . had he ever really been there in the first place?

Cyber was dead.

Bee had seen him die a long time ago. Hammer spoke of him often, Bee had heard plenty of stories, but Cyber was gone.

A slow feeling that was something between fear and wonder crawled up Bee's back strut leaving him to stare at the place where the familiar form had been. Did . . . did he just see a ghost?

Was that possible?

Had it been a trick of his processor? Of smoke and scattered flames?

Was he just afraid and his mind playing tricks on him?

Trembling there in the shadows he stared, plating tight, and processor rolling. His spark picking up on the scattering of emotions again and pulsing with them far too wild for him to have even a hope of hiding it. His mind was so locked up on trying to figure out what the frag he just saw that noticing the sensors on his back was the last thing he was thinking about. He had no idea they managed to pick up the movement of living energy behind him.

He didn't notice.

Until it was too late.

His doorwings and winglets were leaking, damaged, and hurting. They weren't focusing on the outside world enough to speak to his processor loud enough. They were too busy trying to clot his self repair nanites into the deep gashes that were torn down the outsides of the broad appendages. Tracking his surrounding was not his frames natural response to what state it was in and with his mind distracted his frame let sensory slip for a few klicks.

But that was more than enough to get him killed.

Optics focused before him he didn't see the shadow shift behind him and he sure didn't see the frame slide out of the darkness. Didn't have any idea anything was there. That is until and arm snaked around him and a hand clamped over his mouth.

With a yank he found himself hauled off his feet and pulled back into a large, strong chest, but the nano something touched him his whole frame came alive with panic. In a jerk he fought. Twisting and kicking as he slammed back into the hard armor trying to wiggle his littler frame out of the strong hold, but before he even managed to kick out more than a few times a familiar voice hissed into his audios as a well-known energy field clashed into his.

"Be still!"

Bee went limp in less than a blink. Whole frame going lax with the familiar sound of Sideswipe's voice and energy field.

Sides.

It was Sides.

His whole frame sagged in relief against the strong armor of Sides' chest as he was yanked further back into the shadows when another shadow of flight flickered by overhead. The warm, known, buzz of Sides' field pressing firmly into his own calmed him down enough to let him breathe and focus. Enough to realize it was Sunstreaker shoving them both backward deeper into the shadows. The slightly larger twin blocking the narrow groove between a shattered wall and a slab of stone with his back to them as his dark optics focused on the little bit of clear sky above them they could see. Even in the darkness Bee could make out the startling amount of energon leaking down Sunny's armor. The thicker armor of his shoulders was pealed back and torn in stick streaks of blue to show the leaking protoform underneath. He was dented and scuffed and burnt all over. Looking like Bee had _never_ seen Sunstreaker ever let himself look before. A thick tear was torn into his back that looked suspiciously like the clean slash of a blade. It didn't take Bee but another glance to see the thick energon rolling down both of Sunny's brawn blades.

He'd just killed somebot, and they'd got a hit in before that.

It sent a shiver down the mechling back strut.

It was only after the shadow vanished that the big mechs relaxed slightly. At least enough for Sunstreaker to turn around and Sideswipe to drop him back down to his feet. Letting go from the hold he had on Bee's mouth but the other strong arm didn't let go. Instead twisting him in a hard yank until he was staring up at the angry faceplate of the younger twin.

Energon leaked in a steady stream down the right side of Sides' face. Flowing from the dented and cracked point of his right audio horn. The rest of him was in no better shape than his brother, but his blades were tucked away from the motion of grabbing the little yellow mech.

"Are you _stupid_?" Sunstreaker's low hiss drew Bee's optics back to him, shrinking a little under the stressed, angry glow in his dark optics. The huge mech crowding into the cove to back Bee against his brother's damaged frame. Sideswipe kept the hard grip on his arm, both their fields at war with fear, anger, and worry. Bee knew well the anger in both of them at the moment was built more from fear than anything else. "What the frag were you standing around looking at?!"

The answer jumped to his tongue, but he swallowed it back down. Saying he saw a ghost didn't seem the best response right now. Besides, he still wasn't all that sure what he saw.

"I—" Spark clenching coolant bubbled in his optics and throat that he tried desperately to swallow back down, but fear shivered him from the inside out and with a whimper the lunched forward. Latching hold of the big golden mech in a tight trembling hug. Sunstreaker stilled for a moment before a sigh rattled his aching frame and he pulled the little mech up off the ground and into his arms.

Bee stood at about hip height now, but he was still small enough for either of the frontliners to pick up easily if they needed to. Not so much for Jazz or the femmes anymore, but the bigger bots could. The Dinobots could do it easily as could Optimus and Ironhide. At the moment though Sunny wouldn't have really cared if the mechling was as big as Swoop. He'd have figured out a way to pull him up and hold him close as the trembling thin frame latched hold and whimpered against him.

A warily sigh rattled through the golden mech's vents again and he leaned forward against Sideswipe the two of them tucking the little mech between them in a way that their larger frames hid him from sight while they both kept most of their attention out of their little hideaway.

"Shush, Bee." Sideswipe quietly told him. Hand lifted to rub at the pinned antennas atop his head. "Calm down."

Bumblebee hissed up at him, but stayed hidden between the strong frame. "I can't find anybot! I thought—"

"Shush," Sunstreaker whispered against his audios. "We're here, it's okay."

It was a bold face lie and they all knew it. Nothing was okay. Nothing at all about any of this was okay, but they found him and they would protect him of that there were no doubts. Besides, he had the best chance of finding others anyway.

Holding tightly to the two that had long ago become his big brothers Bee shivered with his optics closed. Wishing that was enough to shove the world out and make it all go away. That he could open his optics and he'd find out it was just a bad dream. That Scout and Echo were laying at his feet and Hide and Mia were less than twenty feet away.

That things were okay.

But he was not the sparkling he once was and he knew no amount of wishing was going to fix this. That didn't make him any less afraid though.

It took another few klicks for the two of them to get him calmed down enough to slow down his rapid breathing and quivering frame until Sides asked.

"Are you hurt?"

It was with that that both mechs pulled back and took a good look at him. He wasn't leaking as bad as either of them, but it was still a instinctual _wrong_ to see any amount of energon on his frame. It made their split spark clenched between them in a way that hurt more than anything leaking on them.

"I'm okay." He whispered. Still holding tight to Sunstreaker's armor, but he pulled back now. Getting a grip on his emotions in an internal hiss and turned his attention back outward.

The twins were here.

He wasn't alone.

It would be okay.

They couldn't possibly be the only ones. They would just have to find the rest of their family and he could do that by—

Oh slag he was an idiot.

Repressing the urge to slam his head repeatedly into Sunstreaker's middle only because that would hurt the big mech more than it would hurt him Bee turned his attention inward and then shoved it out searching for the sparks he could pick out and name who they belonged to with little more than a single pulse. Only to stop short with shock when he realized he couldn't feel the twins as they stood right there in front of him.

Confusion flaring out his doorwings Bee glanced between them.

"I can't feel you. Why can't I feel you?"

"Never took the Dampeners out." Sideswipe shrugged with a wily grin. "We hadn't gone around to it yet. We hadn't gone to berth when the attack hit."

"Which reminds me, open up." Sunstreaker said, pulling on Bumblebee until the mechling let go and stepped back.

"What?" Bee blinked.

Sideswipe had already caught the thought in his brother's head. Nodding quickly with the notion he stepped back with one narrow glance to the dangers that lay outside before he cracked open his chest plate. Bee didn't need much more prompting then that. He understood.

His ability to look with his spark wouldn't do much good if at the same time it got them notice by those circling jets. He didn't what to think about what more Decepticons could possibly think they could do here, but he was not foolish enough to not know what was happening.

They were looking for survivors to pick off.

Megatron obviously assumed crash would kill at least most of them and what would be left would be too disoriented, hurt, and scattered to stop the killing parties that he could hear starting to grow in number around them.

Bee knew what was happening.

He afraid it was going to work.

Shaking off the fear he forced himself to focus again. Doing as he was told. Cracking open the pressured seals of the flat panels of this chest.

Twenty vorns ago he hadn't been able to do this. Second frame sparks were still locked away behind solid protoform that was not mature enough to open. It was only after thirty vorns that sparks matured enough and plating had grown enough that the thick spark glass—the clear protoform directly over the spark chamber—cracked and made a bot able to open their spark chamber to the outside world.

He was still wasn't physically mature, but he had access to his spark. For this though he didn't need all the way down into his spark chamber. Spark Dampeners didn't need to be _in_ the spark chamber. They just needed to be inside armor and over it.

So pealing back the layer of armor to revel the pale yellow protoform bellow lit by the shine though his spark glass Bee took the detached dampener Sides handed to him and hooked it over the glass. No matter how much it made him light headed and kind of dizzy.

He did—he _really_ did—hate Spark Dampeners.

However, he knew better then to argue this one. Locking his plating back into place he gave his head a good shake trying to clear the left over fog, but there was no point. He was just going to have to function through it.

"What about you?" He asked, as Sides locked his plating back into place. The big mech looked down at him and gave him a small wink.

"Same spark, Half Pint. The one Sunny's got will work well enough."

"Don't call me that." The golden mech growled, pulling back and taking another glance out at the destruction that lay before them. "Now come on, standing around is asking to get shot. They're looking for survivors. Let's find them first."

Bee shivered at the dark words, but nodded.

"Get to looking, Half Pint."

Narrowing his focus Bee took the safety the twins offered and closed his optics in an effort to help see through the fog the Dampener. It was hard though. The effect of keeping his own spark hidden made it harder for him to reach out and look for others. It was like driving through shifting sand, technically doable,but hard as all fraggin' get out.

It made his spark pound and his head spin. Distorting what he should be able to feel enough that it was like there was nothing at all out there. Like they were gone.

 _Gone._

A shiver rattled through Bee's frame leaving him quivering again there in the shadows. Looking but not finding and no matter how much he knew—at least prayed—it was the Dampener and not everybot dead because he that he was damn sure he'd have felt that.

Right?

They were out there?

His family wasn't gone?

He didn't even realize he was whimpering again, that coolant pooled at the bottom of is big optics, until he was benign spun and Sideswipe was kneeling down in front of him.

"Hey," Sides rumbled at him, a sound between a low purr and a reassuring click. "Hey, look at me."

"I can't feel 'em." Bee warbled back at him.

He couldn't help it. No matter if he'd spent the last twenty vorns trying to convince his family he wasn't a sparkling and that he could do what they thought he couldn't he felt like curling up on the ground at the moment and balling. He might be a youngling that grew up in a war zone and knew far more about the crueler side of life then he should, but he was still just a youngling and his entire life literally just went up in flames around him.

He hurt and he was scared.

And this fraggin' dampener wasn't making things any easier.

He wanted his sire, and his carrier, and his hounds, and his _family_! He wanted to wake up!

But he wasn't dreaming. He knew that.

That was the problem. This was real, it was all really happening.

He was _afraid_.

"Listen to me." Sideswipe shook him hard once. His whole frame jarring with the motion flashing pain through him because of it, but he kept Sides' gaze as the big mech made him. "You have to calm down and you have focus. We're not playing training games anymore, Bee."

"I—"

He knew that.

Oh Primus how he knew that.

Sides shook him again, dark optics narrow and angry. Not at the mechling. No. He was pissed about all the rest of it. Energon boiling for a fight like it hadn't in vorns. The tension seeping between him and his brother enough to cloud them both. Shoving them back into fragged up coding that if they let slip probably wouldn't be enough to save anybot once the fighting started.

" _Stop_ it!" He growled. "You've been begging for vorns for your field test, well I'm sorry Bee, but here it is. Now you have to suck it up and prove you can play the game. If you don't we don't have a slaggin' shot in pit. Now focus, you can do this Bee—"

"You don't believe that!" Bee suddenly shouted back at him. Fear mixing into anger. "None of you believe I can do it. You don't think I'm good enough!"

The words stalled Sideswipe. Leaning him back to stare down at the smaller mech in his grasp. It was enough to twist Sunstreaker from watching out of their little hide away. Both sets of mirror dark blue optics widening then narrowing with something far from the pit going on around them.

"Not good enough?" Sides repeated before with a groan he shook his head then shook the mechling once more. "Where ever you got that fragged up notion, loose it! You can do whatever the slag you put your spark too and you know it. We all know it. We're scared of loosing you and that's all it is! Do you understand me?"

Bee nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry if you thought that, but Half Pint we don't have time for this. I know you're scared, I know you're hurt, and what we're asking isn't fair, but if we want to get out of this alive you have to suck it up and do what we both know you can. There are no restarts or try again tomorrow here, Bee. Not anymore. Screw up and die is the only thing there is. But we're not beat yet. Now can you focus for me?"

Still nodding along Bumblebee sniffled a few time before closing his optics and searching.

* * *

A cough rattled through pained vents, but with a rattle and a shake pointed black audios raised through crumbled stone before with a massive shove and push the sleek, strong black form of Scout sprang free of the ruble he'd been pinned under. Blowing a hard puff of air out to clear his vents the big mech hound shook his thick head. Audios perking and tail lashing behind him while he turned back to watch Echo crawl out of the hole after him.

They were both banged up, leaking, and dented, but more or less in one piece. Sharing a look between endless ebony optics they then cast their attention around. Confused, hurting, and unsure the two static hounds stood staring out at the chaos around them.

What the frag had happened?

 _"Bee?"_ Echo perked her audios and cast her optics about the smoky ruin frantically. _"Where is Bee?"_

Scout pinned his audios, pacing forward a few steps only to stop short. Lifting his head he parted his jaws, peeling back lips to in vent. Trying to get something other then smoke, burning metal, and energon. There was hardly anything to find though.

Lowering his head in a snort the mech hound flicked his audios forward.

 _"Don't know, but we find him."_

Springing forward the hounds took off, dodging through the ruble and flames in search of their alpha or anybot else that made up their pack. Their yellow colored brother was not what they found through. In less than twenty yards Echo pulled up short. Audios twirling and optics narrowing she caught sight of a flash of color through the ruble. Leaping through a shattered wall Echo slid to a stop with Scout prancing in behind her only for them both to freeze at the sight of the bright blue armor they knew very well.

Chromia.

Bee's carrier.

The lean, strong, bright femme was pinned on her back by huge broken beams. Heavy weight trapping her against the jagged stone she'd managed to land on. Both hounds perked at the sight of the thin femme desperately trying to wiggle her way out from under where she was caught.

With a bark Echo sprinted the rest of the way over to her, skidding up beside her, until she had her muzzle pressed down as close to Chromia as she could managed to wiggle through. She didn't make it close enough to touch, Echo and Scout were both far bigger then they had been when they were puppies and even if the femme hound was smaller than her brother she still stood no chance of wiggling her way into this mess of beams and stone.

Whining lowly her black optics fixed on those widened blue optics that flashed to her in shock.

"Echo!" Mia let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank Primus! I thought you were something else."

The femme hound tilted her head, unsure of what to do or how to help. None of the other bots knew they could talk like Bee did. They didn't have the slightest idea the hounds could talk should somebot be willing to try and listen. Without Bee here Echo didn't have a clue what to do or how to help.

All she knew to do was whine and try to shift closer as her brother paced behind her.

Mia didn't seem to think there was anything the hound could do though because the femme hissed as she tried to shove the beam off her again.

"Where's Bee, Echo?"

The direction question made the hound perk up her audios. Shocked by a command such as that coming from one other then Bee. The most Mia or Hide ever did was give either hound a pet or tell them to get off the berth every now and again. They never acted as if the hounds were smart enough to understand.

"Echo," Mia pleaded. "Where is Bumblebee? Where's Hide?"

The femme hound gave a snort.

She didn't know and she had no way to tell the femme that. Scout gave a low growl from behind her making the femme wiggle her way back out of the small place she'd pushed through and look back at him.

 _"Can't help. Have to find Bee."_ The mech hound grumbled through their bond.

Echo shook her head at him. _"Can't leave her here."_

 _"Have too. Find Bee."_

Echo didn't like it one bit as Chromia called out the hounds again, but turning away she followed her brother in search of their alpha. He would be able to help far more then they could and it shouldn't be that hard for them to track him down.

* * *

The closest spark he managed to pin down was Jazz. Though getting to him wasn't proving to be easy. The sounds of the Decepticons working their way down into the crater they were trapped in was a chorus of laughter, growling engines, and thrusters. The majority of Cons were airborne and getting down here would be little work for the likes of them, but they seemed to be enjoying taking their time.

Every few klicks Bee heard a cannon or blaster go off but every time his spark clenched and he wanted to stop them Sideswipe's grip tightened on his arm and kept him close. There was nothing they could do. He knew that.

The only chance they had was saving as many of their family as they could, but they were bell-fish in a barrel down here. If they attracted attention not even the Terror Twins would be enough to save their hides.

It was just . . . hiding rubbed Bee wrong in every way imaginable. They should be fighting, not hiding.

However, on top of that was this terrifying point in the back of his head; what the frag were they going to do once they did find everybot?

How did they get out of this hole alive?

* * *

A low groan echoed through Optimus' audios. The sad part was, it took him a few nanos to realize it was his own. Only when another one rolled through him did he realize it was his own vocal processor that was making a sound, but those were not his hands latched hold of his shoulder trying to pull him out from under the wall that apparently had found its final resting place on his back.

"W-wha . . . ?" Forcing his optics open he was greeted by a gray, blurry world of smoke and darkness. It was only when a flash of yellow caught his peripheral vision that Optimus' mind caught up with them.

The ship that came out of nowhere.

The attack.

The crash!

His _family_!

Jerking with the thoughts, Optimus attempted to roll up right only to find the movement was near impossible before a voice snarled above him.

"Stop squirming you glitch before you hurt yourself worse!"

 _Ratchet._

Oh thank Primus.

Craning his neck Optimus caught sight of the big medic trying to lever the large slab of metal that had him pin, but he was attempted to be doing it as quietly as possible. It only took the over head thunder of thrusters to freeze up the Prime's whole frame. It all clicked into place in less than four nanos.

The ship crashed and Megatron sent his troops down to slaughter the survivors. Just as he did with the Youngling Sectors.

A low growl kicked into the Prime's engine and he gritted his teeth.

Over his slagged frame would Megatron take what he had left from him.

"Get me out of here." Optimus growled a sound that very rarely left the Prime. "I have to go kill my brother."

"We're trying!" Prowl's voiced snapped back at him. "But we can't do that if you get us noticed, now hush up!"

It took some wiggling and quite a lot of shoving by Hound, Trailbreaker, and Ratchet, but eventually Optimus felt two sets of hands latch hold of him. Finding himself pulled free by Arcee and Prowl just as the place he'd been trapped in gave under the weight of the section of broken ship it had been holding up. The loud bag of the collapsing steal and stone rang out like an explosion around the eerily quiet catastrophe all around them. A sound that tensed them all up as it drew the sound of thrusters closer.

"Move!" Ratchet yelled under his breath. "Now!"

Optimus was too unsteady on his peds from the change of equilibrium to do much arguing before he found himself and what looked to be all of the bridge staff that had been with him in this section of the ship shoved away from the open and deeper into the wreckage shadows. He didn't need much prompting.

All that was required were a few steps to feel just how slagged up he was. Energon was leaking freely from his chest and back, and he was pretty sure not being able to feel the arm that was hanging limply at his side was not a good thing. But when his glance around again proved that everybot that had been on the bridge was at least standing under their own power he breathed a little easier.

Ratchet and Arcee were burnt and dented, but that didn't slow them down in shoving the eight bots deeper into the shadows in an attempt to hide. No bot here was ready for a fight, which was just what Arcee growled at Drift and Mirage when the two mechs tried to turn back toward the sound of approaching jets with a snarl each.

Only when they were hidden away and the circling jets peeled off again in search of what might be more than just ruble falling in their book did Optimus turn his optics to his Second in Command and Chief Medic.

"Status?"

" _Status_?" Ratchet swung back at him with a burning, but quiet glare. "We're in a _hole_! They blew up the damn ship! Two out of three bots I've found so far are _dead!_ "

Optimus flinched.

"I thought _you_ were dead, you fragger! You were hardly breathing!"

Looking to Prowl Optimus wasn't sure what he was hoping for but the grin expression on the normally stock faceplate sent his spark plummeting.

It was Hound, the big green mech leaning against a less burning slab of metal and his brother as he looked around at his commanders then finally, tentatively, asked. "What do we do, Prime?"

"Pray." Mirage hissed under his breath, earning a smack from Arcee for his trouble.

Straightened his shoulder Optimus turned his gaze out the way they had run.

"Is anybot's comm working?"

"Why?"

"Because it's the only chance we've got."

* * *

Shouldering his way under a large piece of rock it wasn't Sideswipe's optics that found what they stumbled on. It was his olfactory senses.

But that in no way was a good thing.

Freezing up in the path he was clearing with Bumblebee tucked right behind him and Sunstreaker covering them just a few steps behind the big warrior didn't even make a grunt when Bee smacked into him for the sudden stop. Didn't answer when the little mech sent a questioning chirp his way. He just stood there taking deep vents, trying to pick out through the smoke and the burnt world to make sure he scented what he thought he did.

However, there was no mistaking that smell when one had spent so many vorns living in it.

The smell of death and burning energon.

Tightening his armor Sides glanced over his shoulder. Sunny knew already. He'd picked up the scent the same time Sides did. The thought shared between them as all ways.

"What?" Bee questioned between them. "What is it?"

"Stay here." Sides told him firmly before slipping forward again through the tight, jagged path they had been forging through the ruble leaving Bee standing there with Sunny's hand on his shoulder. What he found when he rounded the corner made him groan.

Grapple.

Tracks.

Seaspray.

Turning his optics away Sides sighed.

The three of them were not hard to make out, even if their frames had long since gone death grey. Their energon was still cooking as it bubbled out of the deep gashes and tears along their broken frames.

They died on impact. That much was clear to see. The giant weight of metal over them proved that.

It would be a lie to say they hadn't suffered, but at least they hadn't suffered long.

Anger surged through his veins forcing the red frontliner to turn away to get a grip on his spilling emotions. Sunstreaker wasn't helping. His twin knowing already what Sides had found by their connection, but neither of them were doing any good on keeping themselves from blowing up.

 _"I'll kill them."_ Sunstreaker snarled through their bond. _"I'll kill them all."_

Sideswipe agreed with his whole spark, but there was nothing they could do for their fallen commands now. They had to stay alive to avenge them. Stay alive and save what others they could. Bee could feel Jazz which meant the saboteur was alive, but he might not be if they didn't hurry.

 _"Come on, we have to keep moving."_

 _"Block them. I'll keep Bee from looking."_

But there was nothing they could do to keep him safe from the smell.

* * *

Grunting Ironhide flashed his optics open only to be greeted by the sight of tiny pieces of rock crumbling down on top of his head. However, he supposed the tiny pieces of rock were bigger than the slab of stone that was hanging precariously a few yards over his face.

 _Slag._

Now, this was far from the first time the big mech had woken up in the aftermath of disaster, but it was one of the more uncomfortable times he could remember off hand. What made it all that much worse though was the moment he realized Mia and Bee weren't with him.

Panic surged through Ironhide's chest before he snatched hold of it and bit it back when the sound of plasma blasters that burned at far too high a heat to be Autobot weapons went off hardly two hundred yards away. The sound bouncing through shattered beams and stone leaving Hide biting hard on his lip to keep his cannons from whirling out an answer.

Decepticons.

He'd slaughter them all for this.

Managing to free himself from the light beam that had him pinned the massive ebony mech hauled himself upright and slipped deeper into the destruction around him. Heading away from the sound of blaster shots.

He had to find Mia and Bee. They were alive, that much he could feel, but they were hiding their sparks which meant they were in trouble.

He was limping, leaking, and dented, but his plasma reserves were not punctured and were rapidly heating as he slipped through the smoke. A few more nanos and he'd have the ammo to do some serious damage and damage was just what he was going to do.

Those slaggers tried to kill his family.

They were going to pay for that.

* * *

"There!" Bee said quietly, pointing through the smoke to what looked to be a cross support for what had been the ship's bow. Or at least what was left of it. "Jazz! There!"

Sides and Sunny snatched for him but the little mech rushed forward anyway. Not at all caring about being seen as he hurried through the smoke and fell down to his knees before the crumbling mess that he could see Jazz's dulled silver armor through and the glow of his blue optics.

"Jazz!"

"Stop, Bee!" The harsh command worked like a charm. The young mech tensing up and stalling just long enough for Sides and Sunny to catch up with him and pull him back away from the mess.

"Hey!" He snapped at them, but a growl from Sunstreaker kept him quiet as he was shoved back into a shadow.

"Stay there. Stay _right_ there, do you understand me? Don't move an _inch_."

"But I want to help get Jazz!" Bee pleaded at him.

"You found him, Half Pint, that's good enough. This whole thing is unsteady. Let us get him out."

Bee didn't like it, but he stayed where he was place as Sunstreaker stepped back away to kneel down next to his brother. Leaning in and looking around the maze of sharp metal to where they could see Jazz pinned by his legs under a beam in the middle of all of it. How in the frag all these sharp skewers missed him they hadn't the slightest idea.

"Jazz?" Sides called carefully, knowing very well from the sight of things it was worse in there then it looked. Jazz wouldn't have barked that command at Bee for no reason. He also wouldn't be wearing that look in his optics for no reason either.

The very reason for it was laying on the other side of Jazz with a ten foot long metal pike stabbed through his spark chamber. There had been nothing Jazz could do besides lay there and watch the young speeder leak to death. It boiled him inside and the anger that was pulsing in him was the only reason the silver mech wasn't crying.

He was to angry to cry.

"Keep him back." Jazz coughed through the smoke. "He doesn't need to see this."

No.

No, the horrible sight laying just beside him was not something Bee ever needed to see. He needed to keep the image in his head of the last time he'd seen Blurr. That is what the mech would have wanted.

"Jazz?" Sides questioned.

"Blurr is dead." Jazz growled lowly, tugging harshly on his pinned legs but they still weren't about to let him free. He was about at the point he was going to cut the damn things off just to get out of this hole but he wouldn't be much good after that so he swallowed the building anger. Instead letting his gaze return to the twins as their gazes darkened with his words while they both let out a hiss.

From the gasp and pained whirl behind them he knows Bee heard him, but it wouldn't have been something they could have kept from him from long. Jazz was actually a little surprised Bee didn't already know. Though that might be a testament to how slagged they all were at the moment.

"Get me out of here." Jazz finally said. "I have a tyrant to murder violently."

* * *

Standing there in the shadows watching Sunstreaker and Sideswipe try and free Jazz as quietly as they could Bumblebee was doing his best to not break down into tears.

He'd known.

He realized that now.

A piece of him inside had already known.

If he looked right now—really looked—he'd probably know every single bot that he was never going to see again that was laying among this ruble dead right now. They wouldn't be in the links he had with them. He knew that.

He just didn't want to look.

He didn't want to know.

He didn't want it to be true.

And it was a nothing but a sparkling's notion to think that the longer he didn't look to see the less it would hurt when he did. He was doing it anyway though.

Standing there quivering in the shadows he bit back his tears in favor of reaching out and looking for the next living spark they could save. That was what he had to make himself focus on. That and that alone.

Because that was the only thing he could help.

There was nothing he could do for the dead now. No matter how much he wanted too.

It was in his searching that he picked up two bright pulses not far away. Optics flashing open Bee bit back another gasp as he swiveled in their direction.

 _"Scout? Echo?"_ Calling out along their link was harder to do with the Dampener over his spark but within two nanos he had an answer.

 _"Bee!"_ Echo called in excitement and Bee felt his spark speed up with joy.

They were okay.

 _"Where are you?"_ He called to both of them.

 _"Looking for you. Where at? Mia need you."_

Bee stiffened up. _"Mia? What do you mean? Where?"_

 _"She pinned."_ Scout answered in a growl. _"We can't help. Need you."_

 _"Where are you!?"_ Bumblebee shouted back at them.

It was more or a feeling then a direction, but it was enough and without even looking over his shoulder to tell the twins what he was doing Bumblebee sprinted off through the smoke in the direction of his pups and his carrier.

* * *

Most of Megatron's diabolical little scheme to kill a majority of the Autobot army, his stupid little brother, and end this pointless war in one fail swoop did have a whole lot of evil merit behind it. With that giant ion cannon strapped to the side of his ship it all seemed pretty foolproof.

However, there was one tiny detail Megatron and his Master forgot to consider in trying to take out the Autobot high command after they already destroyed one ship.

And that, was that the rest of the army had already been hauling aft in this direction. Now sure, there was that whole convenient little aspect of no radio waves being able to survive when the cannon was on, but the one thing about all that that the warlord and his Master forgot to take into account was the ability to send them out after the gun shut off to power back up.

It only took a comm from his brother far down below in that ruble for Ultra Magnus to panic and Hot Rod to jump a half built hyper drive into a short range warping drive. Covering the last few thousand mile distance between them and flash into the sector guns blazing on a ship that was more or less dead in the air while that weapon charged.

In less than a nano the tables turned and Megatron found himself in a burning ship while his brother's fragged seconds fired everything they had and there was nothing he could fight back with.

It was kind of spectacular.

Bumblebee had just slid around a corner and nearly tripped over Echo when the explosions started over head. Flinching with the sounds and diving for cover out of reflex it was only after the shouting and firing of thrusters around him started upward did he peak out of a shadow to find what looked to be every flying Decepticon that had been down here shot back up to the sky.

Optics widening, Bee tilted his head back to find the bright light show of blue and red fire as the _Victory_ tore onto the playing field guns blazing. Lighting up the _Nemesis_ under a wall of heavy fire, and the massive black ship didn't even try to fire back.

They just hung there in sky getting torn into by laser fire.

They weren't fighting back apart from the fliers rocketing back skyward.

Slowly it dawned on the young mech. That massive gun that had torn his home to pieces in twenty nanos flat drained the ship's power.

They couldn't fight back with it.

Magnus was gonna tear them to pieces.

Throwing his hands over his head Bee bounced once in a silent cheer while his spark sang in his chest.

"Get 'em, Mags." He whispered as Scout and Echo circled him looking up as well.

Make them pay for what they had done to his whole world.

He watched for a moment as the sky came alive with laser fire from the ship and the fliers circling the massive battleship. They couldn't get through the pulled up force fields they had activated.

But when Echo whined and nipped at his fingers he pulled his attention back down in a glance and set his optics on her.

 _"Mia."_ She repeated as if he really needed reminding.

Processor and spark kicking back into gear Bee nodded and motioned for them to lead the way. Chasing after the pair of black streaks through the thick smoke he kept glancing up on the fighting that was going on overhead. At the _winning_ that was going on.

His spark lifted in his chest.

They had a way out.

They could do this.

Things might be okay.

Racing after the pair of hounds Bee slid around one more corner before he caught sight of Chromia's bright armor.

Under a huge pile of metal she was struggling with Bee felt his spark clench before he sprang forward shouting. "Carrier!"

Mia stilled at the sound of his shout. Glancing to the side just as Bee hit his knees beside the huge pile of ruble. Scrambling and pulling he tried to clear a way to her without bringing the whole thing down on them both.

"Bee," Her voice pitched from shock to worry to a sad kind of joy at the sight of him and he stalled long enough to offer her a small smile as he worked.

"I'll get you out, Mia. Just hold on a klick."

Scout and Echo circled behind him with high noises of distress. They wanted to help, but they had no idea how.

"You're hurt." Chromia's optics narrowed as she caught sight of the energon leaking down his frame as he pulled heavy pieces of stone away.

"I'm okay." He shook his head rapidly. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Not really." She tried to assure him, but he could hear the pain in her voice. "I just need out of here. Have you seen, Hide?"

Shaking his head as he pulled on one rather large beam the young mech answered.

"No. Sides and Sunny found me, and we found Jazz, but when Scout and Echo said they knew were you were I came running."

He paused in his pulling to let a painful jolt of realization hit him before he mumbled.

"Blurr is dead." Mia stopped her struggling from where she had been working with him to free herself. "And Tracks, and Seaspray, and Grapple. And . . . a lot more . . . I can . . . feel it . . . but I don't _want_ to. I'm afraid to look, Mia. I don't want to know."

"Hush, my mechling." Mia reached out to try and comfort him but he was still too far out of reach.

Hardening his slipping spark again though Bee shook him head hard and went back to trying to free her. After several klicks the sound of cannon fire exploded off to their left, stalled both of them.

They knew those cannons.

A glance was shared between the two sets of blue optics.

"Hide." Bee whispered, tearing his gaze away letting his doorwings spread out despite their aches and flicking up his antennas trying to pin point what was happening. That was when other blaster fire joined in. The sound of blades clashing and shouting echoing with it as Hide's cannons went off again and again.

It seemed not all of the fight had been taken to the dancing of laser and fire going on above them. Bee dared another glance upward and smiled despite himself to see the _Nemesis_ pitching hard under the steady stream of fire power that Magnus was tearing it out of the sky with no matter the number of huge fliers circling the battle ship.

"Come on, Bee." Mia pulled his focus back. "We can't stay like this."

She was right.

There was still a fight going on. He had to get her out.

As the sounds of the fight increased the hounds got more and more restless behind him. Pacing in circles and growling.

Glancing over his shoulder back at them Bee rolled his optics.

 _"Go see if you can help if you want."_ He told Scout. _"Just be careful."_

 _"Have to watch your back."_ Scout argued with a shake of his head. Pack stayed together. Protected each other. They had to stay with him.

 _"I'll be fine. Go see if they need help. Find Hide."_

Both hounds wined at him for a moment before he shooed them off and went back to trying to free Chromia. Shifting, and pulling, and tugging he managed to work his way to Mia, but getting her out of the pin she was in proved to be a little harder then he thought it would be. Trying to not hurt her and keeping quiet made it all that more difficult.

That and he was small.

He couldn't lift a lot of the bigger slag.

Wedging his shoulder under a beam he tired to lever it off of her legs while the femme attempted to pull herself free, but it wasn't budging.

"Damn it!" He growled as he shoved. "Move already!"

"Well, well, well,"

The two of them stilled.

Plating tightening, and wings plastering down, Bee slowly turned around. Ignoring Mia's grasp and reach for him Bumblebee quickly stepped away and place himself in front of her as he tilted his head back to stare up into burning red optics.

"If it isn't the Autobots' youngling. You're really still alive?"

Bumblebee didn't budge. Even when Chromia snarled, fighting and struggling to get free and draw attention to herself instead of him.

"Tripwire!" She snarled. "Get away from him!"

"Chromia!" The huge black mech chuckled, red optics blazing and battle axe swinging lazily in his right hand. "Been a long time, femme. Funny, seems the last time I saw ya, you looked a lot like this. Only the mechling was already dead that time."

The outraged sound that left Chromia made Bee have to fight back a flinch. Bots were fools if they thought she wasn't twice as dangerous as Ironhide was and three times as vindictive. She might be smaller than the mechs around her, but she didn't need her mate's size to do just as much damage.

Taunting Mia was a death wish. Especially taunting her with that.

It made Bee's energon boil just at the mention of it. It was far past cruel.

However, this was a Decepticon he was looking at. He had to remind himself of that. Taunting femmes with a sparkling they had already lost by actions bots like him caused was nothing. It was actually to be expected.

He was as big as a seeker, but he wasn't a flight frame. No wings or blaring external weaknesses. Just one big, bulky wall of armor and fangs and a really sharp axe.

Swallowing hard Bumblebee tightened his doorwings behind him, pinned down his plating and readied that upgrade Wheeljack had helped him with a few decacycles ago. He hadn't actually used it yet—apart from dancing around the lab with it once it was installed—but now seemed as good as time as any.

He might only be a fifty-five vorn old youngling but he knew the look of wicked intent in a mech's optics. He knew what came next. The twins were right; he was no longer playing at training. There were no try again tomorrow here.

There was only that mech, that dangerous axe, and Bee standing between him and one of the two most important things in his life. No matter how loudly Mia was struggling or calling to him both out loud and over their spark he wasn't about to move.

Hand rising slowly behind him, Bee reached into the subspace pocket where he had tucked the blade the twins had given him. Fingers tightening around the hilt as he called it into existence.

Mia was yelling at him, yelling at Tripwire, yelling for Hide, the fear in her voice tightening Bee's spark, but he didn't budge. He wasn't about to run. No matter how much she screamed at him too.

That mech would kill her.

He wasn't about to let that happen.

"Stay away from her." Calling up the upgrade he pinged it into service. Snapping his head down once letting the full face battle mask slid down and snapped into place. Optics narrowing behind the guard as surprise sparked through the massive mech's optics while a nasty gleam lit his optics.

"Oh now, what is this? Little mech with a little struts? You think you've capable of taking me on?"

"I might just surprise ya."

"BUMBLEBEE!"

He tuned his carrier out in favor of calling desperately through his links for the hounds he had just sent away.

He wasn't a fool. He knew the was probably the stupidest thing he had ever done.

But . . . what choice did he have?

Tripwire grinned, his battle axe spinning around his long claws.

Bumblebee tightened his fist around the glittering hilt of the blade hidden behind his back.

A blur of movement and the massive mech charged forward with a battle cry. Huge axe swinging wild and high as he closed the distance between them in less than two strides. Optics narrow Bee threw his weight sideways in a fast tumble. Going down in a duck and a roll that took him out of the path of the over shot weapon while bringing him up just behind him. The quick motion surprised Tripwire, the huge black mech stumbling as he tried to correct the swing for the blur of yellow movement that was already coming up to his feet behind him.

The twist was too slow though and with a flash of black metal Bee sliced the long blade through the thinner plating at the back of the mech's right knee. Drawing a thick splatter of energon in hardly a wrist flick earning himself a pained bellow and that axe swinging for his head.

Jazz's voice echoed through his audios with a lesson.

 _"Stay low. Keep moving. Whatever you do, keep moving. You're fast Lil' Bee, it's a gift, use it. Keep low and tight and they won't be able to get a hold of you with weapons."_

Low.

Tight.

Moving.

That axe was long and would do little good if Bee kept himself dancing around the massive mech's legs. He wouldn't be able to get a hit. All Bee would have to contend with was those claws. It wasn't much, but it was better than dodging that axe in long range.

Spark hammering Bee threw his weight forward this time. Ducking between the Cons' legs, blade slicing as he did. Cutting through the underside of the mech's other thigh.

Coming back to his feet just as the mech let out another roar of pain, this time his leg giving under the sharp precision of Bee's blade the little mech twisted again. This time catching his balance on his palms as he rolled with his motion, blade clipping through the front side of the other knee before a backhanded slap caught him full in the faceplate.

A cry of pain exploded through his chest as he went sailing backward with a crash. Battlemask taking the brunt of the hard hit saved Bee from unconsciousness, but Bee's weaker plating could not withhold what older plating could. Instead buckling with the force of the hit. The force of it traveling down to bust and bruise the softer protoform underneath.

He was lucky the hit hadn't landed on his optics, and instead left him with energon pooling in his mouth and leaking from his nose as it put him on his back.

"You slaggin' little runt!" Tripwire bellowed over Mia's hisses and struggling. "How _dare_ you!? I'll fraggin' gut you!"

The mech was slow to his feet though for the little mech hadn't missed what he was aiming for. He knew what to hit. He'd had Cybertronian anatomy drilled into him by Ratchet and How To Kill 101 from far more then just Jazz, Hide, Mia, and the Twins. He knew the weaker spots in a bot's frame.

The thinner plating behind the knee, the main veins that lay just a few inches up from it, and so many more. The mech was too tall for him to aim for the quickest and easiest place but if he could put him on his knees long enough he'd be able to make that strike.

That was what he was planning for at least.

But the slices he's made weren't as deep as he hoped they'd be for Tripwire managed to scramble to his feet. Wobbly and limping with energon gushing down his calves, but up all the same.

Scrambling Bee rolled up right, knife glittering with energon in his right hand.

"Fraggin' insect." Tripwire growled trying to charge forward only to stumble and find his legs didn't want to obey him.

So.

Maybe the hit went deeper then Bee thought.

Well, that was an upside he guessed.

Only the mech dropping the axe and yanking a blaster into existence was less on the upside.

 _Frag._

Ducking left Bee barely dodged the hot burn of plasma. Taking off at a sprint through the crumbled metal and stone, he circled, keeping the attention on him so Tripwire wouldn't turn that blaster on Mia who couldn't run no matter how much she was struggling and screaming at the Con to get his slaggin' hands away from her sparking.

Bumblebee really wished she'd shut up.

What the frag was he suppose to do if the bastard pulled another gun and started shooting at her too!?

"Stand still you little pest and let me shoot you!" Tripwire bellowed.

"Yeah right!" Bee shouted back, ducking around a broken wall and just missing the shot that went for his spark as he yelped and twisted back away from it. The twist left him sliding on loose rocks, tripping, falling, and landing faceplate first in the dirt.

With no cover.

 _Slag._

"There you are—" The taught cut off by an agonized scream that pulled Bee up just in time to see the full weight of a very angry mech static-hound crash into the Con's back claws shredding into armor and fangs latching down on the back of the mech's neck.

 _"Scout!"_ Bee called, rushing to his feet, tightening his grip on the knife and sprinting toward the rolling ball of black armor and plating as Tripwire screamed and shouted, shooting wild and racking with his claws trying to get a grip on the hound that was sparing no time trying to bring him to the ground.

He simply latched hold with his fangs and started shredding with every claw he had. Snarling and hissing that high pitch static that made his breed famous. A sound that that close to audios would shatter them and leave a bot's processor reeling.

 _"Stay 'way from my brother!"_ Scout snarled out, shaking his head back and forth like the mech's neck was one of his favorite toys. _"I'll_ eat _you!"_

Rushing forward, knife glittering Bee was fully intent on ending this while he could but before he was halfway there the mech dropped the blaster in favor of latching hold of Scout's audio and ripping the hound off his neck by way of nearly shredding the sensitive audio off.

Scout's hold came loose with a yelp of agony as his weight was thrown forward and slammed into ground. The mech's long claws shredding into his audio in an energon soaked mess that left the hound howling in pain and struggling to get free.

Bee's spark clenched when the Con aimed his other claws for his struggling hound's throat.

A long put away memory flashed before his optics. Of a silver and blue robo-cat and the massive seeker that killed him as he to tried to protect Bee. Starscream had taken Risk from him.

Bee snarled.

No bot was slaggin' taking his hounds!

"Let go!" Bee shouted, throwing himself into the bigger mech's front. Pitching them both backward on the mech's hurt legs until they crashed onto the broken ground. A snarl roared through his whole frame as his free hand fisted into a flying punch that connected with the mech over and over and over again in the nose.

It was oddly satisfying.

"Don't!"

Punch.

"Touch!"

Punch.

"My!"

Punch.

"Hound!"

The last hit broke strut. The mech's noseplate shattering under Bee's fist in a spray of energon that spattered back into his faceplate in eerily hot that shocked the little mech still. The sticky substance sizzling against his armor, leaving him staring down with wide optics to the seeping blue mess he'd made of the mech's faceplate.

Spark rolling in his chamber he stalled. Staring in something like confusion until Tripwire's claws flew and caught him across the face.

The sharp claw slice punctured his battlemask and racked down the side of his cheek and neck in a spray of hot blue and stinging pain. The hit throwing Bumblebee off the mech with a yelp of pain before he found himself pinned on screaming doorwings and winglets looking up at the ruined faceplate of a snarling mech.

"You—slag— _kill_ —!"

Those claws went for his throat, but Bee fought back. Bucking his legs up kicking hard against the mech's front trying to free himself of the heavier mass on top of him before the pressure on his aching wings left him unable to do anything. He didn't weigh enough though and the kicking went unnoticed until Echo slammed into the mech's side. All claws, and fangs, and hisses just as her brother had been. Rolling with the mech she threw to the side. Slicing into his chest in rapid strikes and tears as she snapped rapidly for his neck.

Tripwire managed to keep one clawed hand fisted round the femme hound's neck though and keep her dangers fangs at bay. Not that that stopped Echo as she tore with her claws aiming for the mech's neck. Scout was hurrying to his paws off to the side, but energon was pouring down the hound's head and muzzle. The agony of his audio leaving him dizzying and stumbling.

For the moment there was nothing he could do to help his pack mates.

However, Bumblebee wasn't about to stand for the Con tearing into Echo's throat as she tried to tears out his spark. Forcing himself up again Bee tackled the two of them. Freeing Echo from the mech's hold, but it got them both throw to the side. Hardly dodging a slice of claws, weight crashing down on him, Echo falling away with a yelp, Bee pinned, two knives glittering, and one sinking home in a explosion of life giving blue.

Then, everything went still.

* * *

 **So, I'm gonna go hide now.**

 **Hope you enjoyed (and don't wanna hurt me too bad). I'm looking forward to seeing what you all thought.**

 **-Jaycee**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **Well, now they're breaking my heart, but I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 3

Sizzling, sticky, slick blue splattered down in a gush smothering Bumblebee in both a drenching of energon and the heavy crash of the massive frame over him. It wasn't the sudden crash of weight on top of him that made it all go still though. It was that hot splash of energon that did it.

Vents heaving, frame shaking, Bee lay there on the soaked stone staring up into the frozen look of empty optics and rapidly graying plating. Spark shivering in its chamber, optics wide, he stared up at the long curved blade he had in a white knuckled grip buried to hilt into that junction of throat he'd been aiming for.

He just . . . stared.

The world around him lost in this static filled distortion of what felt like paused time. A ringing in his audios as he coughed, staring through the splatter of energon to the faceplate above him. Hand shaking around the hilt he swallowed hard trying not to wonder if the energon in his mouth was his own or . . . not. Shuffling, tugging at the blade trying to free himself the whole thing was kind of hard when it felt like the whole world was moving in slow motion around him.

Somewhere in the back of his processor it occurred to him that Mia was screaming. And that felt like it should have been important. Like he should be doing something about that. At the moment he wasn't sure what though.

His processor and spark wouldn't do much more then shiver and stare at his knife plugged through protoform.

Nothing else.

None of it was registering.

No sound.

Everything so slow.

Why . . . why was that?

Was he hurt?

Oh. Umm. That was probably a good thing to be trying and figure out.

Slowly his optics focused a bit more, head twisting a bit only for him to freeze again when he found his noseplate pressed up against the broad side of a long knife buried in the stone next to his head.

He blinked.

Staring at his reflection in the glittering grey of the knife. Wondering how it was possible to see himself and not recognize the image staring back at him. Then again, those optics staring back at him were blown wide and dilated in what might be shock. That wasn't the weird part though.

The part that made him quiver was the sheer amount of energon staining even that little portion of him. The hot drips sliding down his cheeks, dripping into his optics, and trailing long streaks over his pinned antennas. It all made his tanks knot up down inside his belly.

A shout echoed through the ringing in his audios. A voice that he should probably remember, he should probably be able to make sense of, but it was like listening through comm static. He wasn't even sure why.

Wasn't sure what the voice was saying either, but somehow it seemed like something he should know.

"BEE!"

 _Huh?_

His head rolled away from the Con's blade driven into the ground beside his cheek, trying to look around the mass of death grey armor crushing him to the place when it came again.

"BUMBLEBEE!"

 _Jazz._ His processor whispered.

That was Jazz, but why the frag did he sound like that? Why was he yelling? Weren't they supposed to be being quiet?

"Oh Primus. No. No, no, no! BEE!"

Suddenly the crushing weight was heaved away and his frame surged with a deep suck of air to previously struggling vents that lead to a hacking fit of searing pain. Optics squeezing shut with it as his aching frame tried to curl in on itself with the hot flares of pain, but hands were suddenly on him. Grasping, grapping, pulling, and clinging.

One nano he was laying on damaged doorwings and the next he found himself yanked into Jazz's shaking frame. Hands all over him as the motion of moving left him coughing and shaking his head.

And Jazz was still shouting.

Why was Jazz still shouting?

Why could he hear Mia screaming in the back ground? Why were there thunder like explosions tapering off far over head? Why could he feel Scout and Echo in pain and scared? Why did it feel like Jazz was having some sort of panic attack?

"Move you slaggin' hound!"

 _Sunstreaker?_

The twins were here too?

But . . . he had left them somewhere hadn't he? That had been a bad thing . . . he was pretty sure.

Was that why Sunstreaker sounded so upset? Was that why he was yelling at Bee's hounds?

He really shouldn't be doing that. Something was wrong with the hounds. They didn't need to be shouted at.

Bee should put a stop to that.

Yeah.

Only when he opened his mouth all he did was start coughing again, energon bubbling up in his mouth making him wheeze until it was spilling over his lips. That . . . that was not good. Shaking his head hard back and forth, trying to make it stop, trying to hear something that didn't sound all distorted and odd, trying to figure out why nothing was working the way he thought it should.

 _Shock._

The word drifted through his processor as his cheeks were cupped and his gaze met Jazz's frantic one.

 _I'm in shock. That's what this is._

Huh.

Well, it did feel like he figured it would, but he guessed it kind of made sense.

Jazz was still speaking, his lips were moving but Bee wasn't sure what he was saying. The static had come back with the coughing and as it faded off wheezing pain surged up through his sensor net tearing a aching whine through his throat, but even that sounded wrong. Sides was there and his hounds were circling. Sunstreaker was somewhere near, he knew that somehow, but the hands running over his aching frame were distracting.

That hurt.

Why were they doing that?

Another loud boom rocked through the world, loud enough for him to hear through the static in his audios. Then he was jerked. Yanked tight by Jazz's strong arms. Pulled and twisted away from something but he didn't see what.

Instead in the twisting his optics had landed on the crumbled frame laying just a few feet away. That huge frame of Tripwire. Now death grey, limb, unmoving. The brand new blade the twins had gifted him with still buried deep in the mech's throat. The blue of energon having stopped pumping so it was no longer gushing, but it curdled all over the mech's frame in a sick paint job.

Bee's spark felt like it turned to lead. His tanks giving a hard clench, knotting into a prickling ball.

He was dead.

He was dead . . . because of Bee.

 _I . . . I_ killed _him._

A flush of sickening heat rushed through his frame and before he knew what was happening his tanks rolled. Everything in them coming up in coughing hacks. Then, his world went a little too far to the left followed by . . . blackness.

* * *

It was with a dazed kind of stupor that Hot Rod stumbled out of the landed _Eternity_ , spark heaving in his chest. Watching as a badly leaking Silverbolt helped a no better looking Optimus up the edge of the rounded crater.

It hadn't been more than a breem since one last blast sent the _Nemesis_ spiraling down in a fall of flames. Roddy still wasn't sure how the ship vanished before it hit the ground, he wasn't all that sure he wanted too, but at the moment all that mattered was the Decepticons were gone.

Defeated?

No.

No the Cons hadn't lost, no victory could be claimed for the Autobots in the graveyard that stretched down before Roddy's bright blue optics. The Cons had fled and failed in killing them all in one fail swoop, but there was no victory here. No means for anything like it.

There was only a numb scramble to save as many as they could then get the frag out of here. It was going slower than any of the officers would have liked, but there was something about watching their friends haul even more of their friends' lifeless frames from the ruble that in no way could be rushed.

The _Eternity's_ medical bay was overflowing. With the dead and close to it, any that could still walk were helping search for survivors for as long as they could stay upright. Those that were too badly injured to search, but not in life threatening conditions were lined up along the hallways surrounding the medical bay.

Roddy hadn't seen Ratchet or Arcee since they stumbled up the ship's planks a breem ago. However, he knew they were in the process of trying desperately to save as many as they could along side, First Aid, Jolt, and Quickfire.

But not Jumpwire.

Roddy's spark clenched.

Jumpwire was dead.

So . . . so many. The young commander was still unsure what the actual tally was. He was sort of avoiding finding out. Instead making himself as useful as possible as far away from the bay and halls as possible. Which meant he was stumbling up and down the deep climb to the bottom of the crater looking for bots.

He had no idea why pulling limb frames from under stone was better than watching them leak out in the halls, but it was. Or at least, that was what he was telling himself. What he had been telling himself since a badly leaking Ironhide climbed over the rim of that hole with a leaking, unconscious, and covered in energon Bumblebee in his arms as well as his quivering mate that wouldn't let the little mechling go. While two busted up hounds limped along at his feet.

Roddy had froze up on the ship's ramp then. Spark going cold in his chest.

He'd been ignored, though he supposed that shouldn't have surprised him, as they stumbled past. It wasn't until Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were helping Jazz up the ramp that somebot bothered to answer the panic in his optics.

The answer Jazz gave him though was a touch on the shoulder and a quiet, 'Hey Roddy' and then they were gone too. To a quick patch up and then back down there with him looking for anything living. It wasn't much of an answer, but it was all he would get.

There were too many other things to worry about.

Like saving what they could and then clearing out.

The saving was running out of time though.

He knew that. Magnus kept pinging him, but he kept ignoring it. Because there were more living down there. There had to be. And he wasn't leaving until he found them all. He hadn't been able to find all of his crew. It wouldn't be the same here.

He'd find them.

He would.

Limping past the broken looking Air Commander as well as his older brother Roddy was fully intent of heading back down that pit hole to look some more when a hand snaked out and latched hold of his shoulder.

Flinching back, startled, weapons systems pinging and whirling he was halfway through the thought to fire the blaster charged in his arm when Optimus' voice rumbled.

"Roddy, stop."

The bright mech painted in red, yellow, and gold froze. Staring up into those optics that matched his own he found weariness, defeat, and pain in the elder mech's faceplate as Optimus sighed.

"No more, Roddy." The breath the Prime sighed out rattled his aching vents in a sound that made the younger cringe. "It's time to go."

But the words sparked in Hot Rod's chest tearing a growl out as he yanked away from Optimus' grip. "What the frag do you mean it's time to go!?"

The quick action made the aching mech stumble. Nearly putting Roddy on his aft had it not been for a swift move from Optimus.

"Stop Roddy. Calm down." Optimus rushed, not letting go as the younger commander struggled against his elder brother's grasp. The big grayish white jet standing just to the side let his dark blue optics dance between the two commanders. Unsure what to do with himself. He'd been escorting his Prime under Prowl's orders of not letting the damaged mech who refused berth rest climb in and out of that pit hole by himself. Nowhere in those instructions from the Praxian however were the proper actions of what to do when two commanders started bickering and shoving when neither of them were in any shape to do so.

It was only with a hard look from Optimus that the jet took his leave. Bowing out and hurrying back to the hovering ship leaving Optimus with his struggling brother.

"Roddy." Optimus wasn't growling, but it was hard to keep a hand on to the smaller, more agile mech with only one arm. His other still hanging limply at his side. He had ignored Elita's snaps to stay inside. Only allowing Jolt to stop the leaking before heading back out to help what he could. Ultra Magnus had glared at him when walked by a breem earlier but he didn't care. That was his crew laying down there among the ruble. He would not sit in Magnus' ship's halls and let others go and get them.

But for the last twenty klicks or so it was becoming clearer and clearer there was nothing left down there alive. Not even Optimus gift—weaker then Bee's sure, but still powerful—could feel there was nothing left to find. Those that they couldn't save from the ruble didn't deserve to be left in this horrible grave, but he could no longer sacrifice the good of the living to honor the dead.

Magnus called him a few klicks ago saying Roddy wouldn't answer, and agreeing that it was time to go. So he had no plans on letting the worked up young mech head back down there. Everybot else had already come in.

It was time to go.

"Roddy, enough." Optimus snapped, yanking him as hard as he could to spin him around and plant him his frame back in front of him. The bright commander was trembling, vents heaving, optics blown wide in a cretin kind of misery Optimus knew too well.

"No it's not!" Hot Rod snapped back at him. Pulling at the hard grip on his arm, but wary of pulling too much. He'd never seen his older brother look quite as miserable as he did right now, at least not since he thought his mate died. He didn't want to do anymore damage to the aching massive frame. His spark was quivering though, aching and rolling in his chest.

He couldn't stop.

Not yet.

He had to make sure they didn't leave anybot down there!

"We haven't found everybot! I'm not leaving until we do!"

"Roddy," Optimus struggled with him. "Roddy. Hot Rod!"

The smaller commander froze. Looking up the few feet difference between them to stare into his brother's optics while his own were wild with the pulsing emotions in side of him.

"It's over, Roddy." Optimus whispered, attempting to pull his younger brother close to him. In the face of what their eldest brother had done though, Roddy just couldn't do it. He shied away from anymore touch. The Prime couldn't say that he blamed him. "There is nothing more you can do."

"We can't _leave_ them!"

"There is _nothing_ left to find, Roddy."

"That's wrong and you _know_ it!"

"It's the _truth_ and _you_ know it!" Optimus shouted back at him, patience snapping in the wake of all the pain, anger, and fear. "Now stop arguing with me and get your damn aft on the ship!"

The toss was harder than it was meant to be, leaving Roddy stumbling and swaying. Optimus cringed with the crack of his knees against the hard stone, but before he could reach forward and help him back up Roddy had already pushed himself back upright. Marching back toward the ship without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

Optimus was left standing there on the edge of a disaster sighing as his brother walked away from him. Turning his optics back down to the smoking, charred, crumbling mess of what had been his home and a large portion of his family Optimus swallowed back the tears that lodged up in his throat. Turning way with a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

It wasn't the dull ache through his doorwings, his side, or his head that woke him. Instead it was the soft beep, beep, beep, beep coming from somewhere to his right. Groggily his optics blinked open to a distorted blur of over bright lights.

Quickly he squeezed them shut again. Head pounding with the light making him whine under his breath.

Damn.

Why was it so bright, and why the frag did he hurt so bad?

The truth slammed in like a punch to the gut. A sharp, sudden, surge of memory. Fear, pain, horror, . . . guilt.

They'd been attacked. The _Nemesis_ , the crash, the fighting the . . . death.

He'd been fighting. That Con, Tripwire, he'd been trying to protect Mia.

 _Mia! Scout! Echo!_

Bolting upright Bumblebee's vision swam when he forced his optics open, searching blindly though the blur, trying to figure out where he was and what was happening only to have a strong grip wrap around him and carefully pressing him back to the mat he was laying on.

"Easy Bee," Chromia's voice purred through his conscious, field rising up and wrapping round to pull him back down into the warmth and safety of her frame and everything else. "It's okay, you're alright, it's over."

He was rattled for a moment, processor reeling. Trying to catch up with where he was and what was happening.

And how he ended up laying on a mat on the floor in a grey hallway.

However, Chromia's strong arms were locked around him and it didn't take too much longer to realize he was curled up in her lap leaning against a wall down the end of a bright hall. They were placed in the corner of a four way junction letting Bee throw his gaze this way in that in confusion as he realized they weren't the only ones here. Bots lined the halls on both sides and around the next.

Stretched out on tarps, mats, and blankets. Some sitting up, some unconscious, some talking quietly among themselves, some clinging to each other much like Mia was clinging to him and he realized a moment later he was doing the same to her.

A harder look brought him names to the faces, but a hard rolling of his spark was the only reminder he needed of how many _weren't_ here. Of what had happened.

A quivering set into his plating. Aching doorwings and winglets flattening to his back, antennas pining down into their grooves. His fingers tightened around Mia's armor as the dark blue femme pulled him closer into her chest. Arms tightening around him as she settled her chin atop his forehead. Beside them to the left lay a pile of black armored plating. Scout and Echo were knocked out on a heavy pain killer.

It was the only thing Jolt had been able to do for them with how many other life or death things needed the medics' attention right now. The two static hounds would live, their frames meant to heal better and faster than bots, but they were both in a considerable amount of pain. The meds were the least Mia could get for them.

Though her main concern had been Bumblebee. It hadn't taken long to figure out the energon soaking him wasn't his. His doorwings were cut deep in many places, a gash torn into his side, a fairly serious concussion, and two long scratches carved up the side of his neck to just crest the edge of the left side of his jaw that required a weld and would likely scar but other then that he was alright.

At least physically.

Mentally . . . that was yet to be seen.

Shock Jazz could recognize when he saw it, had known the nano he got a hold of him and Bee couldn't respond. It seemed the weight of what had happened had finally crashed in on the young mech, but a lot Mia was afraid had far more to do with what he'd had to do.

Her grip around her young mechling tightened.

Tripwire.

How much had that mech taken from her already? He'd been there that night Whiteout died, had played a role in it, and now he had taken something from Bumblebee none of them could ever give him back.

Chromia had no illusions of what her mechling's life would be like. She knew all too well the things Bumblebee would have to do and see as this war went on, but that didn't mean the reality of it didn't crush a place inside her.

Bumblebee had proved them all wrong once again.

The thing they had feared that when the time came he wouldn't do . . . he did.

He killed a mech.

At fifty-five vorns old, Bumblebee had come out of this soaked in energon that wasn't his and marred in a way nothing would ever fix. All because he'd been trying to protect her.

Squeezing her optics shut Mia pressed a firm kiss to the top of his head, holding tightly as the young mech trembled there in her lap. Glances were spared their way. Drift, Bluestreak, Inferno, and Red Alert among them. For the most part though, Mia ignored them. She knew they were only looking to try and see how Bee was doing. They might be needed soon, depending on how Bee dealt with this, but for now Mia wasn't letting go and she wasn't letting anybot else in the bubble she'd made here in this corner of the halls.

Apart from Ironhide when he came back.

She had already sent a short feeling to him when Bee had stirred. An overwhelming sense of relief had flooded back to her, but under it all they were both too aware that him waking up was only going to be half of anything that happened next.

The entire army had more or less just been sliced in half. Two ships gone. Running scared.

Mia sighed as the faceplates rolled through her mind.

Tracks, Grapple, Seaspray, Blurr, Hoist, Skids, Kup, Brawn, Cliffjumper, Downshift, Impactor, Ammo, Blades, Streetwise, Fixit, Jumpwire, Greaser, Takedown, and so many more. She wasn't even sure how high the tally had gotten by now. Ironhide kept her updated as much as he could but there was so much in the heavy air it was hard to breath let alone think.

A hard tremble from the little mech in her lap pulled Mia's mind from the list of the dead back down to her little mech's coolant filled optics. Lifting a hand to cup the cheek that wasn't baring a weld and a dark bruise. Rubbing her thumb under his optics to brush away the few tears that slipped down.

 _"Hush, my little one."_ She muttered softy to him over their bond. Reminding him he wasn't on pain meds for the very reason Ratchet refused to give his processor anymore to slip into shock about once he came around. There would only be meds should he ask for them now that he was awake.

Another whine rolled through him as he burrowed back into her chest. He wasn't sure he wanted to know why they were laying in a hall surrounding by medical equipment and hurt members of his family. He could feel the rumble of ship engines through the floor, telling him they were air born somewhere.

Magnus must have picked them up and taken then away from the disaster he saved them from. But what had happened?

Had the Cons left?

Did Magnus destroy their ship?

How had they even gotten there in time?

So many questions, but above it all was the biggest one of all. How many of his family were gone?

He knew all it would take is a slow shuffling through his bonds and he'd know, but he didn't want to. He was afraid.

Under that fear was another truth that left his tanks squeezing again, even if now there was nothing in them to come up. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not though because of the ache it created down there.

He killed him.

He'd buried his knife in a throat and ended a life.

 _He'd_ done that.

It made his spark squeal painfully in his chest. Curling him into a tighter ball and shivering against Chromia. A rational part of his processor was whispering that he'd done it because he had too. That if he hadn't the mech would have killed Mia, and him, and his hounds, and everybot else he found trapped down there in the aftermath of what his cruel Lord did. He knew that.

But that didn't make the sickening pain go away. It didn't make him feel like anything less of a monster.

The most horrible part about it all though, was that tiny whisper, the one that said he'd do it again. And he would. Of that he was very sure. Because if it was a choice between his family and somebot else there was never going to be an argument.

What did that make him?

Thinking that he could chose between life and death for other bots. That wasn't right. That wasn't . . . .

 _That's war._ That whispering part of his processor reminded him. Making the aching in his chest tone down slightly while that thought settled in.

 _"I'm sorry."_ Bee whispered through his link with Mia, the words spilling over to Hide because he wanted his sire too. He could feel him around somewhere, but not here. Bee wished he was here.

 _"Bee,"_ Mia shook her head against his. _"You didn't do anything wrong."_

 _"I . . ._ killed _him!"_ He shivered again against Mia's armor.

 _"Bumblebee,"_ The stern tone flowing through their link carried with it a feeling from Hide that made it almost feel like the big mech had Bee and Mia wrapped up close in the power of his strong arms. It eased some of the aches rolling through the mechling letting him loose himself in the warmth and the safety that Mia and Hide always curried through their link.

In return, Bee pulsed a sparkling like need. A want to curl up in his sire's lap and never leave. To somehow crawl back into his spark vault and hide way from the real world. To get lost in the safety of his creators and not have the face the world he'd so long wanted to be a part of that now left him trembling like a sparkling in the aftermath.

The feeling had Mia pulling him closer and Hide sending a strong feeling back to him.

 _"Bumblebee, listen to me."_ Hide's inner voice followed the feeling. Making Bee have to pull himself back from the place he was sinking again to focus on his sire's voice. _"Are you listening?"_

He hummed back a felling of yes.

 _"Bee you did what you had to do. Do you understand the difference?"_

He thought so. At least through all the learning and all the lessons he'd have over the vorns. All the training his family had done with him to teach him how to do the very thing he just did. On the outside it was always easy to look at it and say he was doing it because he was in a war, because he was a soldier, because if he didn't members of him family would be hurt, because if he didn't the Decepticons would win and all the fighting and dying would be for nothing.

Turned out the concept and the action were to very different things.

His spark had always shied away from this idea of death, but his processor knew it was a necessary evil. He'd just never thought it would feel quite like this.

 _"I didn't mean too . . . ."_ That was the only thing he could come up with. For it was the truth. He'd know what he was doing when he refused to move. He'd known what would come of it. Really he did, but there was something about having done it on accident that made it a little worse.

He didn't know why, but it did.

 _"I didn't want too."_ He went on in the same quiet whisper. _"He was going to hurt you though."_ A deeper snuggle into Mia's armor. _"I wasn't going to let him."_

There was no real comfort either creator could offer their adopted sparkling. Nothing would ease that guilt, it was something he would have to come to terms with on his own. Just like every other bot that was alive in this war. Maybe in another life the brightness of their mechling would never have to be tainted by the game of life and death, but in this life there was no way that could ever be possible. He would have to fight, fight and kill, or he would die.

That was simply the reality they lived in.

Telling him that it got easier with time was not what Bumblebee wanted to hear. So for now all Mia could do was hold him tightly and let him be.

* * *

The headed west. _Way_ west. Back out the way Roddy had been. To the desert's edge and the protection of the Tower Cliffs. The mass of the _Eternity_ tucked away between the towering peaks of a crumbling mountain. Hidden by the jagged stone and endless drops. It might not have been the smartest place to regroup over the long orns that followed the attack, but Roddy knew the cliffs well and apart from not talking to anybot he got the ship safely into the cocoons of stone walls with very little trouble. The young commander always had been a brilliant pilot and even better engineer, so that much wasn't all that surprising.

It was his refusal to speak that was the oddity.

For the most part he was left alone though. They were all coping in their own ways. Some better than others.

It had taken around four orns but Bumblebee had finally come around from the low he had worked himself into. Orns of clinging to Mia and Hide as well as his hurting pups finally lifted to him coming to terms with what had happened. They all knew there was a piece of him that would forever be gone, an innocence he'd never know again, but none of them could say he wasn't ready for the world they lived in anymore.

For the most part, besides nonstop guards on every monitor and detection method they had all energy went in to fixing the damaged and burying the dead. One of the deeper caverns along the Cliff's had been the site of a long and silent vigil lit by data-bats and torches as the Autobots laid their dead to rest. It wasn't much of a graveyard, but it was the best they could do.

After that, repairing the injured with that scare supplies they had was the main priority. Ratchet, Arcee, Aid, Fire, and Jolt rarely left the bay they were all sharing now. Dozens of bots were still critical and even more were not truly fit enough to be out of their care. There simply was just not enough space for them all. That was a fact that stretched beyond the medical bay as well.

Magnus had always had the smallest crew, and had plenty of open rooms, but not quite enough to supply the need they had now. Two of the rec rooms were being converted into barracks, and many more rooms were being divided to share more than they were built for. It wasn't comfortable and it wouldn't all function like it needed to but at this point they had no other choice.

The Cons had vanished, quite literally. The _Nemesis_ and the entirety of the army that had called her home and fallen out of the fight in a crumbling mess of fire and shattering metal under the onslaught Magnus and Roddy had reeked with the _Eternity's_ cannons. However, the ship never hit the ground. It a flash the whole thing had simply disappeared.

Something that still had the command staff pacing around offices snarling at each other over the explanation of how. Roddy had worked a miracle when he pulled that old hyper drive out and went to wiring, but there were no warpers left among the Decepticon ranks. The ship shouldn't have been able to _vanish_.

But it did.

The Cons were gone, the Autobots were left picking up the pieces, and what the frag they were going to do next was anybot's guess.

The way Hot Rod saw it; that was more than enough probable cause for drinking.

* * *

Locked away in the darkness of what was more of a supply closet then a room with a folding berth in the corner and nothing else Roddy sat staring empty at the blankness of the wall before him. Two empty bottles lay on the floor below him with another clutched tightly in his right hand. Legs sprawled out before him, slouched down in a bend against the wall he cradled the half empty third bottle to his chest. Nursing it every few klicks or so while he stared blankly through the darkness.

The supply closet they had converted into an officer's cabin for him—he hadn't wanted it, had fought Magnus and Optimus about it a few orns ago—he was now thankful to have. Because if he had been in the converted barracks with the rest of his crew there was no way he could be doing what he was currently doing.

Which was being very, _very_ drunk in his windowless, dark room as tears tracked down his cheeks. At this point he wasn't even sure what he was crying about anymore. Quite honestly, he wasn't even sure what he'd started drinking about anymore.

Though considering that had been the point he was more than okay with that.

He wished he could stop blubbering like a scolded sparkling, but that didn't seem to be within his power at the moment. But that was okay.

A pleasant tingling had taken up his whole processor. A blessed numb that left no room for thought or worry. His spark still had the power to obsess—it was doing that rather well considering the tears—but this amount of highgrade made higher thought impossible.

He was perfectly okay with that.

Lifting the bottle as much as his heavy limbs could allow he wrapped his lips around the long top and tried to take a drag while making as little of a mess as possible. It turned out to be harder than he expected it to be with all the sniffling he was doing. He ended up pouring more of it down his front then he managed to get in his mouth.

A slow whine echoed out of him with the action. A muttered curse that sounded pretty funny in the slur of his heavy tongue. It made him chuckle quietly for a few moments until for some reason the chuckles turned into loud sobs.

The hard shakes of tears leaving the young commander curling in on himself as they rattled through his frame. Tipping to the side not at all caring that what was left of his highgrade spilled all over him, his makeshift berth, his makeshift pillow, and everything else.

Rattling with his crying Roddy curled tightly into a ball, wiggled under his covers, pulled them over his head and simply cried.

The longer it went on the harder they got until he was choking on his blubbering in loud wheezing gasps. Trembling under his threadbare blanket he had pulled out of another storage closet. Arms wrapped tightly around himself and the empty bottle he clutched.

Miserable.

Miserable and alone.

* * *

Curled up in the little room that had been turned into their own Bee sat on the little pop up berth that had been scooted in the tiny room to set right next to the slighter bigger one that Mia and Hide were on. Scout and Echo lay at his feet one of Bee's hands of both of them.

They were both recovering very well. Echo only baring a few scars along her neck that matched rather well with the two thin lines that ran up the side of Bee's neck and the side of his jaw.

His family did a lot of staring at those scars over these last orns. Hide and Mia doing a lot of holding of him and rubbing along the softer protoform of his neck and slightly harder of his jaw.

Scars they figured were something he was still too young to have, but Bee viewed them as a kind of deserving price for the line he had crossed. Saying that he had become okay with what he did wasn't true, he doubted killing would ever be something he was okay with, but he had calmed down and realized that Hide was right. He'd done what he had to do to protect the bots he loved.

There was a difference between that and what the Decepticons did. At least for the most part.

His spark wouldn't accept that as an answer, but it did accept that the action was something he would have to come to do far better then what he had. Lease scars were not going to be the only price he paid for the soldier he had always wanted to be for the chance to defend his family.

Scout was actually the worse off of the three of them. Tripwire had done quite a number on the larger mech hound. His right audio was completely shredded. From the base all the way to the tip the softer, flexible protoform bore three long tears running from the base to the tip. A few other scars littered his neck and chest but that was the one that stood out the most. The one that had Bee apologizing the most to his pack brother for. Scout only scoffed at him though.

He told Bee time and time again that he had been protecting his pack and it was of little consequence considering Echo and Bee were safe. The mech hound did a whole lot of growling about how he would have killed the mean mech had he had the chance because there was no way he had been going to let him hurt either his sister or his brother.

Scout had a whole lot to do with Bee getting over the shock of his first kill and coming to terms with the fact that death was going to be a part of his life if he ever hoped to do what he wanted to do so badly. Keep his family safe.

Scratching idly at both Scout's and Echo's audios—the one that didn't hurt for Scout—the young yellow mech stared up at the towering Prime seated in the swivel chair at the end of the berth. The wasn't much space in this tiny room which meant if Hide, Mia, and Bee weren't on their berths there was no room for the chair that Optimus was in. Ultra Magnus trying to stand by the door made the tiny space even tighter on top of making Scout a little irritated in his healing grumpiness. Bee was keeping a hand on him partly because he wanted to pet the hound and partly because if he didn't he was kind of worried Scout might start biting bots.

Again.

They didn't need a repeat of when Aid had tried to put some welds on the hound's audio a few orns ago. Bee was a little afraid Aid was never coming to come near his hounds ever again. Not that Scout cared. That had kind of what the mech hound had been aiming for.

Optimus was leaned forward with his elbows rested on his knees, fingers laced under his chin while Magnus stood with his arms crossed leaning back against the door.

They'd already been over this about three times now, but Optimus didn't like his answers. Not that Bee knew how to do anything about it. All he knew to do was tell Optimus the truth. He didn't know what it meant anymore then he did.

Shrugging again, Bee sighed.

"I don't know. I'm sorry, but I don't know who it was. It wasn't Megatron though."

"How could it have _not_ been Megatron?" Ultra Magnus asked.

Bee shrugged.

He didn't know.

He didn't know what it was, or who it was, but he knew it wasn't Megatron. He'd felt Megatron before. _That_ hadn't been Megatron.

 _That_ had been something much, _much_ worse.

"And you _heard_ them?" Optimus asked again.

Bee nodded. "Sorta. It was kind of just a feeling. I didn't really sense it like I do other sparks because I couldn't make it go away. I'm not really good at blocking."

Yes, they knew. It just didn't make any sense. At least not to Optimus. What in the Cons' crew was powerful enough to seek out Bee's spark?

The other way around wouldn't have been so impressive. Bee could touch just about any spark he wanted to if he put his mind to it, but while he'd never had much practice with blocking nothing should have been able to come in and not leave like he kept describing.

The little mech's trembling voice still echoed in Optimus' audios from that first night he'd come to find him still curled tightly up in Mia's lap.

 _"There's something on that ship."_

It still sent a chill down Optimus back strut even now.

"What did it say again?" Chromia questioned, dark optics dancing around her little mech's faceplate. Lingering a little longer on those two thin scars, but he didn't pay much attention to it. What he walked away with was nothing compared to what others had. Even Ironhide.

His sire nearly lost his right optic in this one. The long, crooked gash cutting from over his optic ridge, down across his optics leaving a slight blur behind as it ended just over the side of his nose plate. The mech that gave it to him was dead, but that didn't mean looking at it didn't make Bee shiver a little.

More had earned their fair share of scars in all this, that was for sure, but that didn't make looking at them all any easier.

"I see you." Bee repeated.

The rest of it . . . well he figured that might be something that could be done without. Maybe. Hopefully.

A low growl rumbled through Ironhide, as it had the last four or five times Bee had told them that, and just like all the times before there was this _look_ that went around the grown bots. He didn't know how they thought he couldn't see it, but he supposed it did matter because he had no idea what it was about. Let alone how to make them tell him.

If they were going to tell him they would have done it already. Unfortunately, that meant trying to get them too was a waste of time. So he wasn't even bothering with it. The truth was they didn't have any more idea what was going on than he did. They didn't know who it had been that he felt, just as they didn't know where it was Megatron went.

The simple truth was, none of them had any idea what was going on. Bumblebee was pretty sure that was making it all that much worse.

"So?" He pressed quietly, wondering if this time it would get him anything else.

However, all it did get was a low hiss out of Optimus as he leaned back in the chair. "So the sooner we figure out what to do next, the better."

Yeah, Bee figured that would be all the answer he was going to get. For now anyway. In the face of all that had happened he couldn't find it in himself to argue about it. He didn't want to fight anymore. Not right now.

He'd had enough fighting for a while.

It had cost them enough for now, and though it might be worth it in the end it wouldn't earn them back anything they had lost. Not the way Bee saw it.

It wouldn't stop him from fighting again when the time came, but that didn't make him happy about it.

* * *

Leaving the Weapons Specialist, his mate, and his son to their rest Optimus and Magnus headed back down the halls of the hidden battle ship both as tightly spun as the other. No words rolled between them for much of the walk until finally Magnus sighed.

"What do you think he sensed?"

Optimus rolled his shoulders, his right one still aching every now and again. They were so low on supplies he wasn't wasting them by using pain meds somebot else could be. "I'm not sure, but we need to find out."

"What about Trickster?" The commander asked only to earn a glare for his trouble.

"That glitch has been gone for over thirty vorns. I'm not asking him back."

"Even if we could use his help?"

"He won't help, Magnus. They'll just make things worse."

"You don't know that."

"I know what Wardrums said the last time I saw him, and I've no plans to test his theory."

"Your plans to keep the young mech corralled didn't work out as well as you planned, Optimus." Magnus narrowed his gaze at him. "And our excuses aren't going to work anymore. So what now?"

Expression hardening the Prime shook his head. "I don't know."

They walked on for a few more hallways when Optimus asked.

"Have you gotten Roddy to talk yet?"

Magnus paused half a step, shaking his head, spark sinking in its chamber. "No. He's hardly done more then come out of his room since we put it together for him. I thought he'd be doing better than this."

"He's not the only one not coping well." Optimus breathed. "I shouldn't have left him this long. Roddy's never done well alone. He thinks too much, he always has."

"He blames himself for things he shouldn't, but all good commanders do. We both forget sometimes he's not much older than this blasted war."

It was Optimus' turn to pause. He knew very well that was true, but sometimes Roddy's skill let him forget that his younger brother had known little more of this world then the pit that was this war. He'd hardly been grown when he found his way to Iacon all those vorns ago, and it wasn't long after he did find his way to them that Megatron fell.

"He's still a grown mech." The Prime heaved another sigh. "Not a youngling, he might be as low as the rest of us but he can't act like a sparkling."

"Hurting for those he failed is not acting like a sparkling, Optimus." Ultra Magnus lifted an optic ridge. "You know that."

"I didn't mean it like that." Optimus shook his head.

"I know, but you're still mad."

"And you aren't?"

"I didn't say that, but I'll go talk to him."

Optimus forced a grin. "He always did need you far more than any of the rest of us."

Magnus shook his head at him again as the two commanders parted along a corridor. One heading to the bridge the other to find the youngest commander that hadn't spoken to either of them in orns. Magnus had kept it hidden while he'd had to put his focus else were over the last orns, but he was worried about the bright mech. Roddy had never had the best coping skills, especially when he was blaming himself for something.

No matter how much Magnus tried to convince himself otherwise. He'd always had a soft spot for Roddy. Since the vibrant young mech had ended up in his Enforcer office grinning up at him with that cocky smile.

That smile.

Magnus' spark warmed in its chamber before he gave himself a good shake.

Yes, he'd always had a soft spot for Roddy, and a bit more.

* * *

There was this annoying banging that wouldn't stop. That was what roused Hot Rod from the piece of empty recharge. A groan tore through him as he blinked his optics open into the darkness.

Instead of the darkness of his room though it was the distorted dullness of the blanket he had pulled over his head. And then more of that banging.

What the frag was that?

His head hurt couldn't they just leave him alone and let him go back to recharge?

Deciding to ignore it—though not much more deciding went on then the realization that he couldn't sit up—the bright commander snuggled back into his really uncomfortable berth he was curled up on.

Another session of hard bangs this time coming along with a ping through his comm link. Roddy had no intention of answering though. He probably couldn't figure out how to answer even if he did try. So he squeezed his optics back shut and stayed snuggled down.

On the other side of his locked door there was a massive red, white, and blue mech who's spark was starting to get a little anxious in its chamber. Rolling and reaching for the bright one it knew very well, but wasn't answering any way he tried to get him too.

He banged his knuckles one last time on the door rather hard, waiting for the slow drag of unwilling feet across the floor but there was nothing. He gave another urgent ping but when that to was ignored Magnus muttered under his breath.

"Screw it."

And pinged in the commander's override code.

The door hissed away letting Magnus step into darkness only to recoil a bit when the door shut behind him. The overwhelming stench of highgrade assaulted him making the big mech stumble slightly, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his senses.

After that his bright optics were frantically searching the darkness. Landing on a ball curled up in the middle of the berth by the wall.

"Roddy," Magnus' voice pounded through the room as in two long strides he crossed it. Spark hammering while he latched hold of the edge of the blanket it and tore it backward.

A high pitch whine was his reward for his efforts. Uncoordinated limbs flailing, sending another empty bottle crashing to the floor along with the other two all ready there. The young commander was a highgrade soaked puddle balled up in the middle of the berth. His bright optics blinking with confusion while he tried to sit up and failed miserably. Falling back down to the berth in a huff.

"Mags," He hiccuped as a dopey grin crawled up his lips.

A sigh heaved through Magnus' relieved frame. "Oh Roddy, what have you gone and done to yourself now?"

Hot Rod seemed to find that funny. Giggling as he tried to push himself back upright. His palms slipped in the spilled intoxicants and he nearly ended up in the floor had it not been for Magnus grabbing hold of him and pulling him up into his arms.

A squeak left the young commander when he was bundled up and pulled close. Laid across Magnus' much larger arms in a tight hold while the big mech turned from the rank room and berth heading for the hall.

Roddy chirped like a sparkling as he slurred together a sentence. "Oh! Gonna go somewhere? Where?"

"You can't stay in here by yourself." Magnus answered without looking down at the filthy mech that was currently balling up tightly against his armor and snuggling into the center of his chest. Magnus was doing his very best to ignore the feeling of it.

Roddy just purred at him and snuggled a little deeper.

"Said had," Hiccup. "though."

Magnus snorted. "I said no such thing."

"Did too." Roddy pouted, but it didn't stay for long when he started nuzzling at the armor against his cheek. "Disappointed in me."

Magnus froze up for half a step only to shake his head hard and hurry for his room. "Where did you come up with that nonsense? I'm not disappointed in you. No bot is disappointed in you. Is that the slaggin' reason you did this again?"

Roddy hiccuped, but instead of a laugh, it was a sob that came out. One moment the smaller mech was snuggling into the massive commander's chest and the next he was clinging to Magnus' armor balling his optics out.

A sharp pain ran through Magnus' spark as he rounded the last short corridor to his room, jammed in the pass code, and hurried in. Letting it slide shut and locked behind him as he quickly tried to get the quivering mass of bright armor in his arms to stop choking on his tears and trying to climb into his plating.

"Roddy," Magnus said loudly. Sitting down on the edge of his berth, letting the younger mech spread out in his lap. At least he attempted that, but Hot Rod was having none of it. The smaller mech clung to him with low whines and whimpers. Fingers curled tight into his armor as he sobbed.

"I'm sorry." He cried. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry!"

"Roddy," Magnus shook him, trying to get him to let go or at least talk sense for a moment, but there was no reaching that mind or that spark right now. He was too strung out on highgrade and too upset. All Magnus could do was wrap his arms tightly around the smaller mech and hold him as he quivered.

Spark aching in his chest the whole time.

* * *

Energon leaking in long aching streaks all over his frame, Soundwave stood glaring out across the crumbled remains of his lab. Ravage was curled up in a painful ball on what was left of the cat like mech's place on the desk with Rumble and Frenzy shivering between his long front legs. Laserbeak perched just above them. The torn and tattered metal of his wings leaking energon down him just as the several damaged areas of the other three shown in bright blue.

The several gashes, tears, dents, and burns through Soundwave he hardly felt. It was hard to feel any of his own pain when his creations sat balled together, leaking and afraid. For now there was nothing he could do for them though.

Not when the voice of the mech he long ago swore he'd follow to the ends of the universe—a place that didn't seem all that far away anymore—could be heard screaming through what was left of the burning ship.

A few hundred vorns ago Soundwave's presence would have been enough to remind his best friend of his mind. To calm him down and see reason. But there was no longer any reason to be found in Megatronus. For Megatronus was gone. Only Megatron remained now, and Megatron had sold his soul long ago to powers beyond his comprehension. There was nothing left for Soundwave to reason with now.

There was only this mindless slave currently slaughtering his own soldiers for his _Master's_ mistake.

 _Master._ Soundwave snarled to himself with the word.

Oh how far his friend had fallen from the orn he spared Soundwave from death and the obedience to others. Now this _warlord_ was more slave then he ever had been to his sire or the Rings. What was worse about it all though, was he seemed all so willing.

It made Soundwave's energon boil.

Where was the mech that promised freedom?

That promised justice?

An end to the corruption of their planet and an equal playing field for all Cybertronians no matter their frame type or color of their optics?

Soundwave couldn't see him anymore.

Not now.

Not under the control of the Fallen and Deathtoll.

His old friend no longer cared to hear what Soundwave had to say. There was nothing left inside him that knew how to listen. Not now.

He'd held out hope when Vos fell and Praxus was their retaliation. He'd thought maybe it was right to avenge what had been destroyed in cold energon. However, it hadn't taken him long to find out it wasn't the Council that destroyed Vos. It was ordered from his _best friend_.

And then the Youngling Sectors.

A shiver went through Soundwave's plating with the roll of haunting memories. He spared a glance to the four piled together on his desk. At all he had been able to save.

Four.

Four out of _millions_.

The slaughter of whole generations. Of the bots he thought they were fighting to give a better future to.

Soundwave had realized then what had happened. He'd realized the truth. That the powerful speaker and presence that had been his oldest friend was now nothing more than a puppet on strings, and he cursed himself for how long it took to see that.

He'd done something back then to try and stop it, but it had failed. His encoded message that alerted the Autobots to what was happening had been his desperate attempt to stop what he had had a hand in creating. It had failed back then.

He had failed.

Gritting his fangs to the wail of agony that tore through the burnt ship that sent his creations scrambling under the desk to hide Soundwave made up his mind. He had swore long ago that he would stand by his friend's side as he had once done for him and that was not a vow he would break.

But Megatronus was the mech he made that vow to. Not Megatron.

It was too late now to atone for all he had done, and a small part of his spark held out hope that one orn Megatron would see what he had become. Because of that Soundwave could never do what he had let so many do over these last vorns. He could never run.

Where would he run to?

Who would be there to pick up Megs if he did?

No.

There was no place else for him to go, but there might be a way he could change some of this.

Decision made Soundwave strolled forward to the sparking remains of his equipment. Long, silver claw flying over keys as he coded another message. It was betrayal, but Megatron had done the betraying first.

If he couldn't see he'd become the thing he had hated, then Soundwave would have to figure out a way to make him see it. If that was giving his younger _brothers_ —because yes, Soundwave knew that secret as well—a hint then so be it.

He was not a slave.

 _Never again_ would he be one, either. It was time to stop acting like one.

* * *

 **Happy New Year!**

 **Thank you all for reading and for the reviews. I look forward to seeing what you have to say about this one.**

 **-Jaycee**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **This is so incredibly late, and I am sorry, but it fought me for a long time. However, it is now done. So here you go. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Thank you for the reviews. ^-^**

 **Have emotional robotic aliens and all their glory.**

* * *

Chapter 4

His head hurt.

Like . . . _really_ bad.

Like he kind of wondered if he'd somehow stuck it in a trash compactor sometime he didn't remember. A pounding resonating through his entire conscious. Static echoing in his audios and when he dared open his optics he found the blinding light of a room's safety light glowing dimly around the floor and ceiling were far too much to bare.

With a groan Hot Rod pinned his optics back shut. Trying to lift a hand to rub at the pounding throb that felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his forehead. Only his hand didn't move when he told it to.

Confused, he dared peak one optic open again. Trying to figure out why his limbs wouldn't response to him and if that was some kind of bad thing. Only . . . where his arm—and most of his upper frame—was suppose to be there was a great big expanse of blue and white.

 _Huh?_

Attempting to roll onto his back didn't get him much more of an answer. Because apparently there was no backward. There was too much big bulk pressed up the entire length of his back. Wrapping him up and squeezing him tight.

Blinking rather stupidly through the slight distort of his vision wasn't easy. Neither was trying to think through the pounding in his head and audios.

What was going on?

Where was he?

Shifting a little, trying to figure out what was happening with a processor working so sluggishly. It was harder than it should have been. He couldn't even tell what it was that was wrapped so tightly round him.

But it was warm.

And very strong.

Kind of . . . nice.

The tired part of his processor, the side that wanted to close his optics again to stop the aching in his processor, thought that that was more than enough reason to close his optics and go back to recharge. That seemed like a much better option than keeping his optics open and making the pounding worse.

Only this was . . . weird.

How did he get here?

What was happening?

He didn't remember, and that was even weirder.

He shifted again. Trying to move his frame with the heavy weight wrapped around it. Another low sound rolling out of him when he tried to pulled his cradled frame away. Then, suddenly, the tight hold around him shifted. Pulling him closer, and tucking him tighter. The strength and warmth shuffling him closer. Huge mass cradling around him.

The sound of venting breaths, the hum of resting systems, the beating of a spark through plating against his back.

He was being held.

Somebot was _holding_ him.

 _What . . . ?_

Roddy stiffened up.

The shift in the pull of him closer moved him just enough now that he could look over his shoulder to find the faceplate of just who had a hold of him.

 _Magnus?_

Spark jumping into his throat Roddy was pretty sure he stopped breathing.

 _Magnus._

Oh . . . oh frag.

 _What the pit did I do!?_

His already sluggish processor locked up. Optics widened despite how bad that made his head hurt, and he just looked. Because what other thing was he fraggin' suppose to do?

How did he . . . what was . . . ?

A hard roll of his tanks answered the question for him. They tightened, and pinched, and then he was scrambling up, freeing himself from the larger mech's hold, ignoring the sounds of Magnus startling awake. He was too busy hauling aft across Magnus' rather boring room to the washrack on the other side. Just making it to the sink before everything he'd so stupidly drank last night came up in a burning surge.

Coughing, hacking, whimpering as half processed energon, highgrade, and internal acids assaulted him in one awful mixture. For a nano he trembled there, grasping onto the edge of the sink doing nothing but trying not to feel any of it processed before strong arms circled around him. Lifting him just enough under his arms to bear his weight, but not squeezing already struggling internal systems.

It pulled a startled yelp through him making all the purging worse, but when a deep baritone rumbled through his audios he stopped trying to fight it.

"Easy, Roddy." Ultra Magnus shushed him. One arm wrapped snuggling under his arms. Taking his weight and holding him over the high sink. Trying not to cringe too much at the nasty smelling slag he was coughing up. The other hand he cupped around the back of the smaller mech's head. Stroking the sharp points of crest fins trying to calm him some.

Another whine worked out through the coughing, but after a few more klicks it seemed to be over. Leaving the shivering mech limp there in Magnus' grip as he hung his head over the sink.

Under the waves of nausea and pain a thick cloud of shame bloomed. Creeping through Roddy's veins and into his field like the shivers he couldn't control. There was nothing he could do at this point to try and make his frame listen to him. His insides hurt too bad.

Including his spark.

Confusion.

Shame.

Regret.

It all swirled hard through his field in a sickly tang that left Magnus stiffening slightly. Tightening his grip unconsciously he pushed out his own field. A smooth flow of reassurance while he reached to the side for a wash rag draped over a rack near the sink. Quickly flicking it under the sink in a shared movement of spinning on the flow of cleanser and ducking it under.

Taking the wet cloth attempting to cup Roddy's jaw, but with a spike through his field the smaller, brighter mech flung himself away with a snarl.

"Stop it!"

Magnus dropped him out of shock.

Stumbling back with the force of sheer _denial_ that flowed hard through Roddy's field. Only the youngest commander was nowhere near able to stand on his feet at the moment. Sending him to a crash of very painful pile on the floor.

"Roddy!" Magnus hissed, kneeling down next to him in an attempt to pick him up only to have a very uncoordinated hand fling back at him while Roddy attempted to pull himself away.

"Don't touch me!" He snarled. Snapping Magnus' touch away in a backward lean of shock. Optics widening as he sucked in a breath. Watching was Roddy trembled there. Attempting to slowly pull himself up and failing every time.

Spark clenching in its chamber, demanding every fiber of Ultra Magnus' being to reach down there and pick him up. To help him. To calm him. To get back to the smiling Roddy and not this quivering thing on the floor. He didn't know how to though.

For they'd never been here.

Roddy . . . _refusing_ contact?

With _him_?

That . . . .

Roddy had become a very tactical mech over the vorns since he ended up under Optimus' care. After growing up mostly alone, lost in alley way after alley way where almost every coming touch would be painful it had taken a long time for him to become that way. He was a resilient little fragger though. He became more than any of them had thought the skinny little mech that so strangely came into their lives looked like he was capable of back then.

And those ways included learning to trust. Especially in the area of touch. Even more so for Magnus. The massive tri colored commander had actually been the first Roddy had ever learned to trust. It was why Optimus handed over his training and teaching to Magnus in the first place.

For him to struggle away now left a tightening ball of upset in the bottom of Magnus' tanks. A feeling that made him swallow hard in an attempt to keep from doing the same thing Roddy just had.

Optics widening the towering commander stayed knelt there on the tile floor of his washrack watching the smaller mech curl into himself. Whimpering, wrapping his arms tight around his knees, burrowing his forehead down between his thighs. The position had to hurt with as much as his frame must be aching from the effects of both the highgrade and the purging.

Roddy squashed his optics shut in an effort to dismiss the pain thudding through him, but more so he didn't have to look at the expression on Magnus' faceplate. His spark was doing this weird jumping kind of clench. Unsure if it wanted to be right or wrong with the assumptions it was trying to work its way through.

Because no matter how much his processor was telling him he'd once again screwed up rather royally his spark was pretty happy at the prospect of waking up in Magnus' berth wrapped up in those powerful arms and that enormous frame. However, how and why he got there was something he had no idea even to where to guess out. He couldn't remember last night. He couldn't remember how he got here let alone what had happened before or after.

Damn.

His head hurt.

Stupid highgrade. Stupid spark. Stupid . . . _him_.

Shivering there on the floor for a while long Roddy attempted to pull up some kind of memory file. Some clue that would explain to him how the frag he got to where he was now, but all he got was a blurry mess of tears and the strong rhythm of a spark beating away close to his audios.

Steady.

Reassuring.

Familiar.

A sound and a presence he'd clung to far too often over the vorns. The sound of the spark of the mech he needed more than anybot around here had the slightest notion of.

Well . . . maybe apart from Drift . . . and Elita.

But he'd never been any good at hiding things from Drift. Not even back in their academy orns. They had too much in common. Drift knew a little bit too much about what it was like on the streets. For he'd grown up in an even worse part of Cybertron then Roddy did.

For Drift was from Rodion. From the Dead End.

And Elita was _her_.

Magnus was the first mech Roddy trusted, but Drift was his first friend. As for Elita, well she had taken to making sure Roddy had somewhere to turn when there was nowhere else to go way back then. In the time where Optimus and Magnus were still working for the Enforcers and had little time to look his way after he was in school. Elita might have been working right there beside them, but Roddy guessed you could chalk it up to carrier instincts.

She had always noticed him when he needed to be noticed and Magnus wasn't there to talk to.

Arms tightening around his legs Roddy tried to hold on to his speeding vents. Trying to calm down his building panic attack. Not that it was working all that well as he sat there balled on the floor trying to figure out what was going on.

Coping skills . . . he so didn't have them.

A quiet, cautious, pleading kind of sound slowly rose up through Magnus' vocal processor. Roddy wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish with a sound like that, but it did get the smaller mech to peak up over the edge of his arm. Maybe that was the purpose because Magnus' dim optics brightened a little with the much more blue shade of Roddy's met his.

The huge mech was still balanced rather awkwardly there on his heels. Long legs bents and long arms resting on his knees, and his strong shoulders sloped downward in this way that just screamed wrong to Roddy's processor. It was enough of a _wrong_ picture. The sadness in those dim blue pools that he made himself lift his head just a little bit more. Looking back as Magnus arm twitched once. What seemed to be an effort to reach out for the smaller mech.

He stopped before he did though so this time Hot Rod didn't have to flinch. Instead he just curled there and watched. Trying to think through the pounding in his head. Trying to remember how the frag he got here.

"Roddy," Magnus' deep voice filled the constricting tightness of the younger mech's spark. Just like it always had. Seeming to vibrate through his spark chamber in a way he had never truly understood. Though he had spent a good portion of his adult life trying to ignore it. Trying to hide it.

Trying to get over the utter stupidity of it all.

Of his stupid spark's want for something it would never _ever_ have.

And he'd gotten pretty good at it. If he did say so himself. At least on the front of hiding it, denying it, even to himself. Of going about his life and pretending it didn't hurt. Because they were in the middle of a damn war.

This was not the time for youngling like crushes on a mech that not only would never see him as anything other than that scrawny youngling that stumbled his way so stupidly into their lives, the young mech that he constantly had to fix the screw ups of, and pick up when he fell down, and see how often he so royally messed up. But more than that, more than the fact that Magnus would only ever seen a youngling, but Magnus had lost a sparkmate.

He'd been bonded before.

He had a sparkling. Sure Jolt was grown now and Magnus had never got the see the young medic grow up, but they were doing rather well. Growing into each other and learning about each other. Jolt was a lot better at communicating then Magnus was and didn't seem all that worried about all the things they had missed. They had grown to like each other, to be friends. Which might not be the relationship either were ever meant to have, but in the middle of a war, with the events that had lead to the strangeness of it all it was acceptable. It was something far more than either of them ever through they would get before.

That wasn't the point though.

It wasn't that Magnus had a son that was only—at most—two hundred and something vorns younger then Roddy.

It was Artemis.

That beautiful, sweet, smart, and loving femme. The one that had smiled at him all those vorns ago, patted him on the head, and welcomed him to their crazy family. Before the whole world fell apart. Before the carrying femme had been so brutally ripped away from her mate and her family. When they all thought she had died, but instead suffered a fate far worse until it eventually all ended.

Hot Rod remembered.

He remembered _very_ well. All the nights he had sat quietly beside this massive mech and watched him cry his spark out over the one he had lost. Knowing there was nothing he could do to help, and knowing he had no right to be there in the first place, but not wanting Magnus to snuffer alone. So he had stayed.

Stayed and tried to be some kind of comfort when he already knew he would never be enough.

And that was it. It hadn't been hardly four vorns after she died that Hot Rod had started to notice. Started to notice that he liked Magnus far more then he had any right to.

His spark constricted a little tighter in its chamber. Making it just a little bit harder to breathe.

He was a fraggin' glitch. That was what he was.

A selfish, screwed up, glitch.

"Roddy, come on." Pressing forward with both his voice and his frame, Magnus tried again, but when Hot Rod shied away again he rocked back. Optics dimming once again Magnus pulled back. Watching as Roddy tightened his grip around himself and cast his optics around the washrack. If it was an effort to take in his surrounds or to not have to look at him. He didn't know.

Casting his optics around again Hot Rod quietly muttered.

"How did I get here? What did I do?"

Settling down until his weight was resting on his knees and not just his feet Magnus answered. "You were overcharged. Badly. I brought you back here with me to keep an optic on you."

The whole cuddling up to him and holding him close had sort of been an accident and he was praying Roddy had been too distorted by the hangover to notice. It was possible, but it wasn't likely. Not with the way the smaller bot was cringing away from him.

Magnus had to swallow back the sick taste rising in his throat.

He'd screwed up.

And he hadn't even been _awake_ while he did it!

"I'm sorry, Roddy, I—"

The smaller mech's head shot up. The bright contrast of his yellow crest against his red armor casting a bright shine under the harsh washrack lights.

"Sorry?" He cut him off. Confusion shining brightly in those pretty blue optics. "You didn't—no I—I mean—shouldn't have done— _I'm sorry_."

He finally hissed out with a bow of his head. Trying to choking back the sudden rush of tears that came with the uncomfortable look on the bigger mech's faceplate.

"I shouldn't have—I messed up—pit I always mess up." And then he was scrambling again. An attempt to get out even if his frame wasn't really obeying him. He didn't make it very far with the attempt. Hardly a few steps before Magnus caught up.

Stopping him.

Pulling him down and yanking him close.

The move enough of a shock that Roddy didn't fight the fall. Found that he couldn't. Not even when he realized what was happening. He was too busy freezing up as his optics blew wide when those strong arms wrapped tightly around him and yanked him against the bigger mech. Settling into his lap and pressing him close to his chest. Cradling his head in this odd chin hold as he rested it against him.

He had no idea what was happening.

But then again Magnus didn't have much of a clue either. He just hated it _so_ _damn much_ when the smaller mech started talking like that. Hated it to the point he wanted to strangle him when he did, or at least shake him until his teeth rattled. Maybe it would knock some sense into that far too thick head and stubborn spark.

Or maybe because it just made him feel better when he pulled the smaller mech close again. Holding him even if he had no right.

Roddy didn't struggle, but that didn't make it any better. For Magnus knew the truth.

Hot Rod was doing well to remember to breath at this point. Sniffling through the streams running down his cheeks. Attempting to keep his spark from hammering hard enough that his frame took it up like some love strut wire hare.

That was not so easy to accomplish with his whole frame wrapped up by the larger, stronger, older, _better_ mech that pulled him into his lap. Like he belonged there. Like he had a place. Like things would be okay.

A quiet shushing whispered against his audios. Calming, smooth, deep. Assuring him that it was alright. That he hadn't done anything wrong.

But how could that be?

He got drunk.

He got his ship blown up.

He got Optimus and his ship ambushed.

He got _so many_ killed.

He had done that.

How could nothing be wrong?

Curling tighter into Magnus' chest Roddy curled his fingers into the grooves of his armor. Burrowing his face into the warm, strong chest as he squeezed his optics shut. Like it was possible to hide there for a little while and things would be okay. Magnus seemed perfectly alright with letting him. If the way he settled down onto the washrack floor and held Roddy closer was anything to go by at least.

Engine rumbling quietly in the early morning quiet of the commander's room. Fingers stroking lightly over Roddy's back.

To be perfectly honest Roddy had no idea how what happened next did. He had exactly _planned_ it. He'd only meant to pull back slightly and say something. To apologize again, probably. To say that he was sorry he messed up, but that he would do better. That if Magnus would just forgive him for being the screw up that he was he would find a way to prove himself. To him, to Optimus, to all of them. To make up for all the stupid ways he'd messed things up over the vorns.

So how it was exactly he went from looking up into those deep blue optics, to those oh so soft looking lips he hadn't the slightest idea. Even more so he had no idea how the long repressed wonder of what those lips might feel like translated into the action of him leaning up, pressing forward, and _kissing_ them.

He supposed he could blame the highgrade. Or the hangover. Or his stupid present wanting spark.

Maybe all of it.

But in that except moment that his lips pressed hard against Magnus' there wasn't much thought at all. Nothing more than this overwhelming flush through his systems of.

 _Yes._

His spark surging in its chamber in a happy squeal of overwhelming warmness. Field flexing and flaring. Optics pinched tightly closed and lips just as much so. It was nowhere near a good kiss.

To stiff.

To afraid.

To rushed.

But Roddy's spark didn't care. It sang and his whole frame felt like it was melting. A happy little sound flowing out of his vocal processor.

The sudden taste of shock through his energy field from the larger commander brought reality crashing back down upon him like a bucket of coolant. Processor catching up with him at the feeling he picked up.

Optics suddenly snapping open to find the overly wide and shocked pools of blue shining back at him from above. It was then that Roddy truly—logically—realized what he was doing. Even if maybe he should have already.

He was kissing Magnus.

He was _kissing_ Magnus and . . . Magnus . . . wasn't kissing back.

His whole frame ramrod straight. Lips stiff and still. Optics blown wide in shock.

Hot Rod swore he actually felt the moment his spark cracked in half.

Shame, pain, and mortification slammed down onto him harder than his ship had hit the sand not even a decacycle earlier. In a snap of movement he pulled back, sprang free, and ran. Ran with a choked off sound of something that might have been an apology of some kind he fled without looking back. Without hearing the shocked stutter of his name that finally worked through Magnus' warm lips or the big mech rushing to his feet.

The door slammed shut behind him and Roddy didn't look back.

He just ran.

He wasn't sure where he'd go—they were on a ship for Primus sake—but he knew he couldn't say here. He knew he couldn't face it. He couldn't take the soft, quiet, rejection that would come now.

He couldn't.

* * *

"Somebot had better tell me what the frag kind of prank this is supposed to be before I dismantled every single one of you."

Ratchet's low growl echoed through the small shipping compartment of the _Victory_ that had become the Dinobots room. The space they were sharing with Wheeljack. One because the inventor was still trying to make sure Swoop was going to be able to fly again after the damage he had taken, and also because he was the only one besides Bee that could spend extended periods of time with them and Grimlock not want to break them in half.

The normal flinch that might have followed a statement such as that from the medic did not leave the tri colored inventor though. He was too set on the process of watching the relays in Swoop's wing joints flex and roll as he opened and closed the long appendages. The smallest ancient—that still managed to be twice as big if not more than Wheeljack—was sitting on the new workbench with his long legs dangling off the side and his head tilted sideways.

Watching, hoping.

He'd been unable to fly since Grimlock and Scorn freed him from the burning wall that had nearly crushed him in the crash. There had been a desperation in the eldest ancient that orn that none of them had ever seen before.

The King of the Dinobots had a soft spot for Bee and had more than once been a powerful force to be reckoned with when it came to the little mechling. When it came to his youngest brother by code though. That was a whole story all together.

Grimlock babied Swoop for more then he should, and he knew he did, but that didn't stop him. The youngest, the smallest, and technically the weakest of them. All the ancients were by far the most protective of Swoop.

Swoop who had shoved Wheeljack out of the way of a crumbling wall of fire and nearly got his stupid little aft killed in the process. Scorn hadn't put the smaller mech down for three orns after he woke up and Grimlock was far more prickly than usual.

If it was him coping with the almost lose of his whole world and his brothers or if he was just mad about the whole damn thing in general Wheeljack couldn't figure out yet. Ratchet was keeping his distance at the tri colored mech's request. After Swoop was out of danger of leaking to death he left him to the inventor's and his siblings' care.

Getting them a space to call their own on a ship that was now far too crowded had been easier said than done. However, when faced with getting them their own space or facing Grimlock's overprotective temper tantrums a space was made.

One where Wheeljack could keep an optic on them all and in turn Ratchet could keep an optic on them and him.

As he walked into the room the yellow and red medic watched the other massive ancients perk up at the sight of him. Wheeljack only glanced up once he was done stretching the flier's healing right wing out. The thick weld through the folds of the metal mesh had to be sanded down and smoothed at least twice an orn to keep from hindering his flying.

"Whatever it was we didn't do it." Bumblebee's voice piped up as he leaned around Scorn's massive arm where the huge femme had him resting in her lap. Considering there were no real chairs on this ship big enough for them the huge bots had taken to just sitting around on the floor. And considering they still found Bee very pick-up-able none of the ancients had any issue with sill carrying him around like his whole family had been able to do not that long ago.

Ratchet's lift optic ridge at the comment, crossing the room to the table they were all around. He didn't look happy, but Ratchet hadn't been happy in orns. None of them had, but they had their very good reasons.

There was a good portion of this family that was still just getting back up on their feet while the rest of them were still nursing their wounds. Then there was the dark cloud that hung over all of them. The ghosts that lingered around every corner and every room of those that weren't there among them.

So many.

So many gone.

So many the medics had no hope of saving.

There was nothing any of them could have done, but that didn't take the Chief Medic's guilt away. Nothing ever would. It was simply the way Ratchet was. It was how he had always been.

That was now what prompted Ratchet's seemingly endless walks around the ship. Checking on bots he knew were already back on their feet but unable to not do it. As the med bay slowly cleared he and the others should be feeling better, but there was nothing to feel all that better about. Apart from them _all_ not being dead, but watching and feeling the pain around them and unable to do anything about it made even that fact had to swallow.

"What are you doing down here, Bee?" Ratchet grumbled as he finally stopped beside Wheeljack. Reaching out and taking hold of the flier with no comment from the others as he too checked over the deep, jagged, healing cuts through the ancient's wings.

"Mia and Hide had a meeting, the twins are sparring, Jazz is locked up with Prowl in his office, Optimus is on the bridge, you and Arcee are busy, and besides Swoop needed a hug." The little mech answered with a shrug. Earning a smile and a purr from the youngest Dinobot as well as a tighter hold from the large femme that had him. Jack shot him a smile as well as Ratchet, but he said it more to get the pained looked off of Swoop's faceplate then anything else.

The flier hurt, very badly. It was clear in the way he didn't move.

Of all the ancients Swoop was always the loudest, the most active, but because of the mandatory rest and how bad his wings were hurting him he spent most of the last orns curled up against Sludge, Snarl, and Slag. Not wanting to move much more then breathing.

Bee had been making rounds just as Ratchet had. Trying to make sure he got to see and touch all his remaining family. To remind himself that they were okay, that they were still here. He was spending a great deal of time with the Dinobots down here because of that.

Because there was just something terribly wrong with a quiet and still Swoop.

He didn't like it.

"Did you take the nanite boost I gave you?" Ratchet started muttering as he looked over Wheeljack's work on Swoop's wings he missed Bumblebee's optic roll as he nodded.

"Yes, Ratchet. Mia wouldn't let me leave the room without taking the nasty slag."

"Nasty it may be." Wheeljack smiled at him. "But you're still growing. Your repair systems could use the help with the damage they had to cope with."

Bee grumbled something that sound like stop treating him like a sparkling as he scrambled out of Scorn's lap. Getting an affectionate pat from the massive femme and a flick in the doorwing from Grimlock from where the even bigger mech sat beside her on the floor.

"And where are you going now?" Ratchet asked as the young mech skipped back out the door.

"I've got lessons with Drift this orn, remember? He got pissed about the twins giving me the dagger and not giving me any lessons. I said I'd let him teach me some stuff with his swords to stop them from fighting."

Ratchet nodded, remembering the argument that went down yesterday. He was the one that had to step between the growling pair of frontliners and the snarling swordsmech when the fight had escalated to the screaming match turned toward the fact that the mechling would most likely be dead had that knife not been in his subspace.

It had been Optimus that eventually told them all to knock it off, though he had agreed that with Smokescreen gone before this whole disaster happened Drift was the best swordsmech on the ship and that Bee could use the lessons.

It would serve as a distraction as much as it would the teaching of a needed skill. Bumblebee had yet to truly pick himself back up yet. It was something they all saw very well. He was doing his best to force a smile and only hold on so long to the different bots he spent all orn and night rotating in clinging too. Trying to assure himself that his family was still there.

He might think they all couldn't tell, that they couldn't see it, but they could.

It was why Ratchet let him go without anymore demands of looking him over or about the thing that had Optimus stalking around in circles on the bridge. The things the mechling had heard.

None of them knew what he might have really heard, who it was, or how it happened but none were all that keen on finding out either. They were going to have too that was just the misrule truth, but that didn't mean they had to be happy about it.

Turning his gaze back to the bright red optics staring down at him Ratchet offered the flier a small smile as he said.

"How are you doing this orn, Swoop?"

"Me Swoop feeling bit better. Me can fly again now?" There was a hopeful tang in the ancient's airy voice. It made the response on Ratchet's tongue taste even worse.

"No, Swoop, not yet." He tired to pretend he couldn't feel the dismay and misery flare through the Dinobot's energy field before it tucked back into itself. Shrugging his shoulders and looking away the youngest of the ancient's tired to sound as if that was not crushing his spark, but they all knew it was.

That was why both Wheeljack and Ratchet were trying so very hard to get his wings healed as quickly as possible. That and because if Grimlock took out his anger much more on the ship none of them were going to have a home anymore.

* * *

Walking down the halls of the _Eternity_ Bumblebee spared a smile for the many he passed. The whole army crammed onto one ship made it impossible to not meet somebot around every corner. Not that Bee minded. After all that had happened he liked being able to find a familiar face so easily. The only downside to the closeness was Scout was so _not_ a lots of bots kind of hound. Especially not when he felt bad.

Echo loved attention of any kind. She didn't mind all the bots around all the time, but Scout was still prickly and protective after what happened. He didn't like all the bots he wasn't use too around Bee all the time. Looking at all the faces as if they were going to try and kill his alpha brother like the one from before had.

Assuring the mech hound that everything was okay, that no bot around here was going to hurt any of them, was proving to be a bit harder than expected. Bee's still thick anxiety and pain over all that had happened wasn't helping matters. Scout was feeding off those feelings and letting his assurances fall on deaf—scarred—audios.

That was why the yellow mechling was forced to leave his hounds in the tiny room he and his creators were sharing. It was that or have Scout biting bots again, and no bots tempers were quite up to dealing with that right now. It was just safer for all involved to not try Scout's temper right now.

The hound wasn't normally this angry, but an aching audio and the shock of it all was affecting him as much as it was everybot else. Letting him brew in the room was better than trying to watch him every nano to make sure he didn't bite.

The hound wasn't necessarily happy about this, but Bee was the alpha for a reason. What he said goes. Between him and Echo being of the same opinion Scout was left with nothing to do but curl in a ball on the end of Bee's berth and try to recharge away the lingering pain.

The young mech wished there was something more he could do for both his hounds in that department of still feeling the wounds they had earned trying to protect him, but supplies were running drastically thin to begin with. There was hardly enough pain meds left between the medics' stocks to treat the bots that were in desperate need of it. The little they had was better off used on those that truly needed it. Not those that were just uncomfortable.

It was just the way things were for now. At least until they figured out what to do next.

Slipping down a few more halls, heading down to the sparring ring he was suppose to meet Drift in a sound stopped Bee in his tracks. In the moment of the actually freeze Bumblebee wasn't quite sure what it was. Wasn't sure it was a sound at all that stopped him.

In fact, as he stood there in a dim hall down in the lower belly of the ship he realized it wasn't a sound. It was a feeling.

Head tilting to the side the little mech spread out his doorwings, flickering his antennas, stretched his energy field, and flared his spark. Trying to figure out just what it was that he was picking up on. Then, suddenly, it came again.

A hitching kind of pulse of energy.

A silent sob.

An aching spark.

Bee's own spark constricted painfully in his chest in a sucked in shocked breath as he pivoted on his feet in an attempt to pinpoint just where it was coming from. Mind almost spinning with the sheer _pain_ leaking through the cosmic field of sparks Bee almost swayed on his feet with it.

Such _agony_ seeping out of the spark that owned it without consent made the young mech feel like he should be preparing to find a half dead frame when he pushed open the boiler room door at the bottom of the engines block bay. When it turned out to be Roddy hyperventilating, head between his knees, fingers digging into his head, whole frame shaking, crying in half aborted sobs as he hid among the twisting maze of pipes and tubing in the far too hot room Bee wasn't quite sure what to do for half a nano.

However, his spark caught up with his processor quick enough that with a swift intake of breath he shot across the steam filled room, sliding to his knees next to the bright mech, with a quick gasp.

"Roddy! Roddy, what's wrong!?"

He didn't get an answer. The larger mech's shoulders simply hunched down tighter. Like he was attempting to hide or make the maze of steaming, scolding pipes behind him to swallow him up.

For a nano Bee sat there on his knees, unsure what really to do with himself before he managed to calm the frantic confusion and worry of his spark. Just enough to slid a bit closer, lay a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder, and tug at him.

"Roddy?" He tried again. Mindful of the way the larger mech tucked and tried to pull away. As he bit back the shuttering sobs. Refusing to look up or even acknowledge the mechling's presence next to him.

The sheer level of shaking he was doing was rattling his armor hard enough to bruise the protoform underneath.

Trying again Bee ducked down as well in an attempt to get a look at the bright mech's faceplate. "Roddy?"

Nothing.

Only the choking sobs that rattled through all of him and the shivering agony that was leaking out to him. Bee wasn't sure if the older mech's control over his inner emotions was slipping that far out of his reach or if it was just him picking up on things others couldn't again. Considering half the command staff wasn't down here looking for the youngest commander he was leaning toward this was just his spark doing things that weren't normal again. In this case he wasn't worried about if it was him, he just wanted to know what was wrong with Hot Rod.

A klick past in which Bumblebee's optics darted frantically around the bright mech's form trying to make his processor at least figure out what to do. When he pulsed out with this spark in a try to get a reaction that he couldn't get verbally the yellow mechling was officially starting to freak out.

Something was wrong.

Something was very, _very_ wrong.

Rocking back on his peds Bee patted quickly at Roddy's armor. "Okay, Roddy, can you hear me? If you can hear me I'm gonna call—"

"NO!" The bright commander lashed out in a desperate smack. Managing to both shove Bee away and then yank him back in a shared motion. It wasn't the hard hit or even the outburst that stopped Bee cold though.

No.

It was the sheer panic and pain shining in those coolant filed blue optics.

Bee felt his spark seize up and sink in it's chamber.

"No!"

Roddy was babbling now. Grip so tight around Bee's armor he was denting the plating. Coolant streaking in blue trailing down the bigger mech's handsome faceplate. His whole frame quivering with his choking sobs as he pulled the younger mech almost flush against his front. Panicky in a way that Bee had never seen the elder mech.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, _no please_! Don't. Call. No calls. No. Not him. Please!"

By that point Roddy had wrapped his long, thin, lethal arms around Bee's back and yanked the littler mech into his lap. Rocking back and forth with trembling shutters. Burrowing his faceplate into the softer cabling of Bumblebee's neck leaving him staring with wide optics into the steaming pipe behind him. Wings wide and high behind him in shock. Plating flared and then plastering with the sharp sudden fear before it settled with the upset that shivered through the elder mech.

For a moment Bee was too shocked to do much of anything, but let Hot Roddy cling to him. Slowly, as his processor caught up with the situation, he laced his arms around Roddy's thin neck. Settling into a sideways lean in the strong hold he sagged against Roddy's chest. Allowing the mech to shiver, cling, and whimper into Bee's plating.

He had no idea what was going on or what was wrong, but he knew sitting down here among the boilers alone wasn't going to work. He loved Roddy like the brother he was, but the commander wasn't as bright and as carefree as he often tried to appear. Calling him on it had never been Bee's place though. There were really only four bots in the army that could make Roddy talk when he didn't want to.

Roddy didn't seem to want even them right now.

Worry chilled through his spark chamber as he tried to figure out what had happened to turn the grinning commander into this. To make him react so harshly to even the concept of a comm call. To make him cling like this to Bee.

Unsure what to do Bee held him back. Trying not to focus too hard on the cold splashes of coolant against his neck. If he did he'd probably start freaking out as bad as Roddy was and right now that was the last thing that needed to happen.

So instead he tightened his hold as Roddy did the same. Taking a page out of all his caretakers books and started a low, rumbling, comforting purr through his engine and up into his vocal processor. An attempt to level Roddy some. To give him a link back to reality beside just the clutching he was doing to Bee's smaller frame.

They stayed there link that for a long time. Bee rubbing slow circles into the back of Roddy's neck and purring softly trying to comfort him as Roddy rocked slowly back and forth. Clinging to the young mechling like he had never done before.

It had to be at least thirty klicks later when Bee's comm chirped with Drift's signal. Tightening his hold around Roddy's neck Bee accepted the call.

 **"Bee?"** Drift's internal voice drifted through Bee's processor with a curious tint. **"Where are you, little mech? We had a lesson this orn. Remember?"**

Casting a sideways glance to the back of Hot Rod's head Bumblebee wasn't sure if it was betraying the upset mech or not, but he had to do something. Roddy was still shaking. Still crying.

And Bee didn't know what to do to make him stop.

 **"Drift?"** There must have been something in his voice because Bee could already feel the mech tense over the bond they shared.

 **"What's the matter?"**

 **"Could . . . ."** Another hard shake went through Roddy, another choked off sob. No matter what Roddy said, somebot he could talk too needed to get down here right now. **"Could you please come over to the boiler room? Something is seriously the matter with Roddy."**

The swordsmech didn't answer. He didn't have too. Even across the ship—when he was focused on a mech—Bee could feel the sudden stall that went through Drift before he took off at a sprint. The sparring room was only a level and a few hallways over so the speeder mech made it to the cold grey steal door only to come up short at what he found curled up there among the hot, hard to breathe air.

Those sky color optics widened against his pale white faceplate as Bee peaked backward to find the mech. Roddy was too busy shaking and crying to notice his best friend barge into the room. Even when Drift hurried down the tight corridor between the network of steaming pipes. Falling to his knees next to his brightly colored friend. Reaching forward only to snap back the action before he touched the other mech. Instead settling down in a twist of knees and ankles until he was crouched into the other's field space.

Bee didn't dare move as Roddy tensed up with the sudden realization that another had joined them. The low whine and tremble rolling through him as he tightened his hold on Bee and refused to look up didn't do anything to make the youngling's spark stop quivering with worry.

"Roddy?" Drift's smooth voice rolled out.

Hot Rod tensed a little bit more and leaned away even if the other hadn't touched him yet. His arms curling even more around Bee's back until he was stressing the hold of his doorwings protoform through his plating. It didn't _hurt_ per say, it was more of a dull pinch, but it was still uncomfortable. Making Bee wiggle with it, trying to ease the tinge that strung through his main back strut.

Hot Rod didn't seem to have any plans on letting him go though and even if his discomfort showed on his faceplate he wasn't going to make the commander let go if he really needed this. Drift's optics focused on Bee's scrunched up faceplate for a nano before he settled his weight down into a seated position next to Roddy. Scooting until they were pressed plating to plating.

It made Roddy whine again, but he didn't try and flee and his hold didn't get any tighter around Bumblebee. He didn't pull his face from the mechling's neck cables, but he allowed Drift's arms to snake around his shoulders, pulling him into his side.

A few klicks of silence followed that. Broken only with Roddy's attempt at ending his crying. The sobs had at least slowed down, but the pain wasn't leaving his spark. It was screaming out all the same with this confusing kind of agony that no matter how Bumblebee tried to wrap up around it and poke at it the cause wasn't presenting itself. It was like Roddy didn't want to face what it was that was upsetting him so, and while that wasn't really a new concept for the commander's psyche this degree of it was worrying the mechling.

The longer they sat there the quieter Hot Rod got and the looser his hold became. Bumblebee wasn't sure if that was caused by Drift being there with his arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders or if he was finally managing to calm himself down. Whatever it was though he was happy it was happening.

"Roddy?" Drift's voice came again. When it didn't pull a whimper or a flinch from the commander the other went on. "What's going on, Roddy?"

Slowly the commander pulled away from hiding in Bee's neck. Letting go enough to start whipping at his stained cheeks. Coolant was still pooling and streaking down, but it was less now and Roddy's breathing was evening out. It kind of felt like he was forcing himself too.

Shivering, breathing hard Hot Rod turned his faceplate just enough to meet his friends optics. Only to tear his gaze away again when he did.

Then with a harsh, self demeaning, fake laugh he tried to shrug. "If I said nothing could we just pretend none of this ever happened?"

Bee bolted upright and glared down at the other mech. "Not a chance."

Bright optics narrowing into thin slits as he glared hard at the mech currently trying to find some way to hide even with the mechling in his lap and his best friend pressed against his side. It wasn't working too well. Which was probably the reason Roddy finally released him fully. Even if it was just to press his faceplate into his palms.

Neither the mechling perched on his thighs or the swordsmech wrapped around his side pressed him. Just let the commander breath for a klick or two. The moments stretched on to the point where Drift began to worry he was going to have to make his friend talk.

Then, suddenly, in a broken whisper Roddy mumbled.

A slur together of sounds and the pitch of his voice. Only it was too distorted to make sense of. Spoken into his palms and whispered not even Bee's added advantage of antennas and doorwings were going to help him. Not even Drifts long finels were going to do him any good either.

It left the two looking at each other until Drift tightened his hold on his friend and quietly said.

"Roddy, I can't understand you."

Oh, the commander was very aware of that fact. It was why he did it in the first place. Whole frame shivering again with the force of his emotions. Of his panic and his anxiety.

Hunkering down tighter into his own armor. What he was trying to hide from now he didn't even know. He just was.

He wanted to disappear.

Off the ship. Off the planet.

Away . . . . Just away.

Drift's grip tightened while Bee reached out and rubbed at the bright commander's arm.

"Roddy?" Bee whined at him softly.

Shuttering Roddy smothered his face into his hands and whimpered. "I-I. . . I—"

He started shivering again.

Drift's plating tightened as he pulled closer to Roddy and sternly asked. "Roddy . . . did somebot hurt you?"

Hot Rod snorted. A bitter sound as he slowly shook both his head and his hands back and forth with a whine. "No. No . . . I messed up. It was me. I screwed up. I screwed up big time, Drift."

"What are you talking about?"

Swallowing hard Hot Rod whispered. "I kissed Mags."

Drift jerked straight, field flaring with surprise. Bumblebee . . . well Bee was pretty sure his optics had never gotten quite that wide before.

* * *

Pushing through the slow door of Prowl's new office space converted into both that and a berthroom that he and Jazz were sharing Optimus tried not to grind his teeth in frustration. With Elita's hand gripped tightly in his own it was a little easier to pull off then it had been this morning. However, that didn't mean it wasn't taking a whole pit of a lot of effort.

It was either grind his teeth at this point or start yelling. The problem was if he started yelling the Prime was pretty sure he'd never stop. So he was doing his best to hide the action of wearing down his denta from his mate and the mated pair that followed in after them.

Ironhide's cannons had been humming a low, burning, stand by whirl for the better part of four orns. Whenever Bee was out of hearing distance the powerful weapons spun to life without any of say so from the mech that owned them. Considering he had no problem with the plasma warmed and ready in the cannon's chambers he wasn't doing much to stop it. The only reason the massive ebony mech hadn't taken his frustration out on the ship as Grimlock had was the steady presence of the dark blue femme beside him.

Not that Mia had a problem with the violent rampage that wanted out of both of them.

No.

She was just damn set on the fact that if she couldn't blow up walls then neither could her mate.

Considering what Jazz had called them here for this time though that promise of not destroying the only ship they had left in fits of rage was looking to be slipping from even the Prime's grasp when they all circled around the makeshift work station of equipment the spy master had pieced together.

Bent over the half a dozen keyboards in front of him Jazz growled quietly to himself. Not even aware the four had come in. Probably would have stayed that way had Prowl not been leaning against the desk beside him. Arms crossed tightly across his chest the doorwinged SIC stared down at the glowing monitors that lit Jazz up in an eerie glow.

The scowl tilting his lips only made the odd look of his sleek silver faceplate in the glow even darker. Only when Prowl nodded in greeting to them and cleared his throat did Jazz's audio horns twitch and the smaller mech lift his optics. Glowing behind the curve of his visor in a narrow shine.

There was something about the set of his lips and the shine in his optics that suggested nothing good.

"Jazz?"

An aborted snarl rumbled through the saboteur's engine as he pushed away from the typing he was doing. Optimus lifted an optic ridge at the sound and the glaring until he asked.

"What is all this about?"

Jazz growled, shifting on his clawed toes before he blew out a hard breath. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Ironhide rumbled back at him. Not challenging, but still enough to earn him a sneer from the strung out mech.

" _Yes_! I _don't_ know!" Jazz seethed. "I don't even know where the slaggin' file came from. Just intercepted it before I even knew it was a blocked frequency. Then _this_ is here!"

Slinging a clawed hand at the monitors Jazz fumed.

"And what is this?" Elita asked softly, watching the way Jazz's armor flexed with his rattled emotions. It took quite a lot to rattle Jazz. This wasn't just some nothing he was worry about. Whatever he had uncovered—even if it was by accident—was very important.

Optics drifting back to the screens Jazz said. "They're coordinates."

The portion of the command staff gathered in the room glanced at each other.

"Coordinates?" Chromia echoed.

"Coordinates to what? To where?" Optimus pressed.

"That's the problem." Jazz ground out. "It's not possible."

"Damn it Jazz," Ironhide snapped. "Stop talking in circles! We're all already stressed as it is! What are we talking about here!?"

"I think . . . ." Jazz sagged there before slowly lifting his optics to hold those of his Prime as he whispered. "I think it's the All Spark."

* * *

Standing in the blinding whirlwind of red sand the enormous black as death frame stripped and highlighted in thick bands of gold the last of the Knights glared through the storm. A growl rumbling through his thick chest.

Wardrums had no need to look behind him to know that Dustoff was making his way down the ramp of the hovering ship that fought with the wind just behind him. He knew Flamewar was having quite a hard time keeping the thing from crashing down to the sands. She wouldn't have to do it but for a moment. However, that didn't stop her from cursing up a storm while she piloted the thing. Attempting to keep it from crashing down on War's and Dust's heads.

 **"Will you two get your fat afts off the damn ship!"**

War cast his fire colored optics back up at the belly of the hovering ship. Watching as Dust jumped from the ramp. Large frame landing with heavy thud and a huff as he growled.

 **"Don't call me fat, femme."**

 **"I'll call you what I want when you're being stupid. This damn thing is hard to hover and you know it."**

 **"Don't be a sparkling, Flamewar."** War teased. Dodging quickly to the side as the femme dipped the ship's wing in an attempt to knock him. Laughing he moved away with Dust following after him as Flamewar finally pulled the ship quickly out of the air currents low against the desert ground.

 **"Oh shut up."** She growled back, pulling several dozen yards up through the red wind. **"I still think this is a bad idea."**

 **"Oh yeah."** Dust nodded, red optics narrow through the dust storm. **"But do you have any better ideas?"**

 **"Yeah."** She snarled. **"We just go find the bastard and** ** _kill_** **him!"**

War sighed.

No matter how much the idea of just tracking down The Fallen after he was stupid enough to warp after showing himself again appealed to him he knew it was foolish. He didn't need Trickster's flashed in appearance four orns ago to tell him that.

He hadn't been able to kill The Fallen billions of vorns ago and he doubted he'd be able to do it now. No matter how much that hurt his pride. There was simply too much of Deathtoll's power at play that was keeping the bastard alive.

He didn't like it, but all it had taken was a tossed datapad from the Guild Member to shut him up and turn their ship back for Cybertron.

 **"You know that won't work."** Wardrums huffed. **"Now stop complaining. I don't like this either, but we all know what will happen if he manages to get his hands on it."**

 **"You should have hidden it better."** Flamewar snorted.

War hissed. **"Don't** ** _lecture_** **me!"**

"War." Dust whispered.

The massive warrior sucked in a breath and let it out in a sigh.

 **"Just go find them and bring them back. We're gonna need all the help we can get."**

 **"How do you even know they'll help? They work for the Prime now."**

 **"They still owe their lives to us. If they know what is good for them they'll get on the ship with you."**

 **"Alright."** Flamewar sighed. **"I'll go find them. You two better be careful. If you get your stupid afts killed while I'm gone I'll** ** _murder_** **you."**

 **"Because that's not backward logic at all, Flame."** Dust chuckled softly.

 **"Just** ** _don't_** **do it!"**

 **"We can feel the love, my friend."** Dust went on laughing ignoring the way Flamewar jetted off with a stream of curses. Leaving the ancient mates standing there in the swirling storm of sand. To try and stop their world from ending.

Again.

* * *

 **The things I will do to get Wardrums back on the planet. Seriously.**

 **Anyway.**

 **Ta-dah! I actually got a chapter finished. It only took me a month. *jazz hands* Yeah. Honestly, I have no excuse. This chapter just wouldn't flow for a long time. But it has suddenly decided to work again. Hopefully it will keep doing so. Thank you all for being patient with me. We should be back to regular updating schedule as long as Bee doesn't decide to take another vacation.**

 **Looking forward to seeing what you all thought.**

 **-Jaycee**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **Have a chapter, hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 5

"Come again?" Bumblebee squeaked.

Like, he legit squeaked. He had entertained the idea these vorns that he was now old enough not to sound like a started sparkling anymore. However, that was apparently not the case.

"Bumblebee, it's time for you to go on now." The way the command rolled off shocked Bee enough that the squeaking and slight panicking ended. Leaving him to stare over at the white speeder that wasn't looking at him. Drift was instead staring down at his best friend that was hiding in his palms and refusing to lift his gaze.

"What?" Bee all but bit back at him.

Drift's bright blue optics lifted to him and with a tone that the youngling had never heard before calmly told him. "Go on, Bee. I'll take care of Roddy."

"But—but—"

"But nothing."

For once in his life Bumblebee didn't argue, but it wasn't because he didn't want to. No, he wanted to. He wanted to help, but it wasn't hard to see how little help he would be here. So slowly, oh so very confused, Bumblebee pulled himself out of Hot Rod's lap and headed out of the boiler room. With only one long look over his shoulder before he slip out the door leaving Drift sitting there alone holding onto Roddy.

For a moment silence fell heavy over them before Drift blew out a loud breath.

"Well," He drawled. "This was honestly _not_ how I saw my orn going when I got up this morning."

Hot Rod leaned just enough to glare at him through his parted fingers, but at least he had stopped breathing like he was going to hyperventilate now.

Drift had the audacity to smile at him. "Oh come on, Roddy."

"Don't you come on Roddy me!" The commander hissed, shoving himself to his feet and began pacing. Leaving Drift to slowly push himself up to stand as well.

"Did you even hear me!? What the frag, mech!? Don't you even care!? You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"Of course I care!" Drift snapped, reaching out to latch hold of him and stop his frantic pacing. Only when he managed to stop the tri colored brightness that was his best friend did he pause, making spin around and face him while Roddy hissed.

"Doesn't damn well sound like it."

Drift just stared at him. Those bright blue optics knowing. So knowing that Hot Rod couldn't make himself look at them. He was afraid he'd start balling again like some spark broke youngling if he did. In fact, he probably would.

"Roddy," Drift sighed, keeping his grip firm on his friend's arm. "Come on, Roddy. I mean . . . . You can't lie to me, Roddy. I'm the one that knows, remember? I'm the one you talk to. The only one you _really_ talk too. I know."

Some of the fight inside the bright commander died then. Rushing out of his vents in a breath that left him sagging there against his friend's front. Falling into the embrace that was suddenly awaiting him. Letting the white speedster highlighted in red tuck him into his chest, wrap his arms tight around his shoulders as he let the other sag against him.

They stayed like that in the sticky, overbearing heat of the boiler room. Vents struggling to breathe in the thickness of the air, but neither was in a hurry to go anywhere else. Roddy still too afraid to face what lie outside that old door and Drift not at all rushing his friend. Eventually though Hot Rod sighed.

"Am I an idiot?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that."

Roddy flicked him hard on his right audial fin.

Drift yelped, but it turned into a chuckle and neither moved from the hug.

"Don't be an aft when I need best friend council or I'll go find myself a new best friend."

"Oh really?" Drift snorted, smiling at the wall over Roddy's shoulder.

"It's doable." Roddy assured him, voice picking up a playful tease. Unable not to with the amusement ripping in Drift's calm field. It was hard to be upset when the white mech was shoving all that assurance and teasing at him.

"I'm sure it is." Drift teased right back. "But in the mean time, and to save you from having to read applications, how about you tell me what exactly you think about any of this makes you an idiot."

Roddy's grip around Drift's thin back tightened for a moment before he pulled back to stand straight. Drift didn't try and stop him. He let him go, watching him shift back and forth. Optics down and arms crossing over his chest in a tired, wary kind of way.

"You know."

"No, I really don't."

Roddy clenched his teeth. "I _kissed_ him! Were you even listening!?"

"Yes." Drift nodded. "I was listening. I heard you. I just don't understand what the big problem is. Why are you down here freaking out about it?"

Roddy stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Which was highly likely because he just said a thing as stupid as that, but Drift just stared right back at him. Expectant and quiet. As if what he said made perfect sense and Roddy should be providing him with some kind of reason as to why his spark was breaking and his mind was rolling.

Roddy would have thought it would have been rather obvious.

He was an idiot.

He did the unthinkable.

He ruined the best thing he'd ever known.

He . . . suddenly felt like maybe he was missing something because Drift just kept standing there expectantly and a little sad.

"I . . . I . . . don't . . . Drift what are you talking about?"

Drift sighed, reaching up to rub at the base of one of his long audial fins as if he could somehow fight off the growing headache. It wasn't Roddy's fault per say, he was just being his usual self destroying self, but it didn't mean there wasn't a headache coming on.

"Roddy," He finally said. "How _long_ have you wanted to do that?"

Roddy couldn't respond.

He was afraid to.

Drift knew the answer. He knew because the night after Roddy had realized it he'd ended up hiding in his best friend's berth with a pillow crushed over his head while they tried to talk out his latest mistake in between bouts of his stupid sparkling like balling.

"Yeah." Drift nodded slowly. "A _long_ time, and what did I tell you back then?"

Roddy looked hard at the floor. "That I was allowed to want . . . and have. That I deserved it."

Drift didn't nod this time. Just stood there a little longer looking at his friend. He wished it was a statement that was easier for Roddy to believe, but he knew himself how hard that simplest of ideas was to wrap a mind around. Especially after the lies that Roddy had waded through and the mechs that had used him.

* * *

Bumblebee's mind was spinning. Confliction and confusion warring around inside of both his processor and his spark. Leaving him this distorted bundle of emotions just walking aimlessly down hallways.

He wasn't sure what he was suppose to be doing. Let alone what he should be doing.

This was far from the first time the adults had dismissed him from something, but this was the first time it had been like this. He knew Drift didn't mean anything by it. He was simply trying to help Roddy and Bee being around to hear . . . _that_ probably wasn't what the commander needed.

But Bee had heard _that_.

It left him reeling.

Because _what_ the _frag_?

When had he missed _that_?

Roddy and Mags . . . .

The thought wasn't actually that bizarre. Not when he really thought about it. If anything it was kind of . . . awesome. The longer he thought about it the more it was, but it was just he hadn't seen that coming. He'd never felt even the slightest hint that something like that was hidden in either of them.

Bee knew bonds better then he knew anything else.

He knew them better then he knew his own systems. He understood them like he could grasp nothing else. He wasn't even sure _why_. Not really, he just knew it was something he did. Something he did that was far from normal on many, _many_ levels.

His family didn't have the slightest clue about just how much he saw, felt, and saw. Because it hadn't taken Bee very long into his short life to figure out what he did was not normal.

It was far from normal.

At least for everybot else. For Bumblebee it was normal. It was simply the way he was. He didn't know why he could do the things he could. He just knew he did them.

Nevertheless, he kept most of them secret. Because that was easier than watching the confused and disbelieving looks in his family. Because what he did, to them, was weird. Talking to animals, feeling far more then he probably had right too, _seeing_ things . . . that even he couldn't explain. Before it had just been the pathways of energy among sparks. He could actually _see_ bonds if he focused hard enough. As if he could see the life that flowed around him.

It was marvelous, but not something he knew not to explain.

And now he was seeing . . . well honestly he wasn't sure what he had saw down there in that shipwreck. Deep down, somewhere, somehow he knew. He knew it wasn't just the stress or the fear from what had happened. He hadn't been seeing things.

That had been Cyber.

Somehow.

Whether to call it a ghost or what Bee didn't know. He was kind of scared to find out.

It was no simple thought process. Being so drastically different and _knowing_ it. Knowing he did things that weren't right, that in all reality were scary. Things he couldn't explain and probably never should try.

For he feared just what they would say.

It wasn't that he feared _them,_ no he could never fear them. He just feared what it would mean.

Because this was his home. His _family_.

He was _supposed_ to belong here.

He _had_ to belong here.

Because if he didn't . . . where did he?

He'd circled the second base level for the fourth time by then. Mind rolling faster than stars fell with everything going on in his head. Trying to figure out what to do, or say, or even think about quite a few things. Knowing that he couldn't go and be with anybot else until he got a hold of at least some of it. So he went on with his laps.

This low in the ship, just a level above where Drift and Roddy probably still were, he wasn't likely to run across anybot. Only the maintain shifts came down here. So he was alone to think. Which was better.

Maybe it was selfish. Maybe he should have run straight to Optimus and told him something was wrong. Maybe he should have gone and found Magnus so he could say what was going on, but he didn't do either. He just went on circling the halls. Mind wondering and spark locked in its chamber because he refused to let it go looking for the answer it could probably find quite easily.

To be perfectly honest he wasn't sure how he even noticed it. His mind was wondering so much he could hardly see the steps in front of him. It wasn't even that he _saw_. It was more of a fleeting streak of color out of the corner of his optic, but the color and the size seized him up in a lock of joints and a flash of fear.

 _Ravage._

That was the first thought. As he suddenly swung left. Dagger ripped out of the subspace pocket at his lower back where he was keeping it. The long black blade glittering in the harsh red light of the standby power of the lower levels.

Only for the dagger to clatter to the ground as his whole frame went lax. To the point that he knees almost gave out under him. His thrown out hand against the wall beside him only just saved him from a faceplate to the floor. However, other than catching his balance he found he could do nothing else.

All he could do was stand there and stare with his jaw dropped open and his optics wide. He was pretty sure he wasn't breathing either. Instead simply standing there locked in some cloud of shock as he stared down at the lean, longish, silver and blue spotted form of a robo-cat. Though the color was more of a transparent sheen. Just like before he was sort of looking through the image as much as he was looking at it.

But it was there.

Oh Primus was it there.

Image shivering slightly, not flickering really, but so obviously not tangible that it hurt.

The first instinct of Ravage hadn't been that far off. For it was very much a robo-cat. But the image was smaller, and while the transparent quality made the blue a bit harder to see it shone just enough to overpower the silver. Those ice colored blue optics. Tall twitchy audios. Rounded, pointed tail. And long wire whiskers twitching from a short muzzle.

 _Risk._

Spark constricting in its chamber Bee tried to take a breath and found that his vents didn't want to. All he could do was stand there and stare down at the robo-cat sitting on his haunches. Long tail wrapped around his clawed paws. Head tilted ever so slightly as those clear but not blue optics sparkled up at him.

The cat was smiling. Anybot else might have thought that was impossible, but Bee knew all too well that it wasn't.

"Risk . . . ?" This time the word managed to roll off his tongue, but it was more of a hiccup than anything else. His spark so tight and processor so confused that his vocal processor had trouble calling up the right sounds.

It came out all the same though. That robo-cat—his first friend, the one that had died for him—gave a light purr. It was more of a feeling then a sound though. Bee couldn't tell if he heard it with his audios or his spark, but he didn't actually have the processor power at the moment to try and figure it out.

Because suddenly Risk pushed himself to his clawed paws, turned, glanced once over his shoulder, and then sprinted off down the hall behind him.

Bee was off after him like a shot.

Shouting for him to wait as he did. Running as fast as he could. Sliding around corners and tripping through cross sections. The whole time trying to catch up to the springing cat that managed to just keep in front of him.

Bee was almost sure he was going to disappear when he rounded another corner in front of him, but when the young yellow mech skidded around it he found he could only trip, crash, and tumble to the ground. Hardly feeling a moment of it because he was too busy with his jaw hanging open staring up at the misty image flickering at the end of the hall in front of him.

Risk—or at least the ghost of a thing that looked like Risk—stood there beside where he fell. Looking down at him with an amused twitch of his wire whiskers. Bumblebee couldn't find it in himself to even look over at the there but not there image of the robo-cat.

Instead all he could do was shakily push himself into a seated position and stare. At the foggy picture spread out like a trapped cloud at the end of the hall. Distorted and wispy. Hard to really make out. Like looking through a dirty window, or water.

Hard to really see, but still there. Enough that if one tried hard enough they could make out what it was. Even if the longer Bee stared at the more confused he became.

It was like looking at a close up shot of the sun. A glowing mass of energy and life in the center. Though it was square, not round. And massive. Somehow Bee knew this. The image of the thing above him making him feel absolutely tiny.

Watching as it pulsed and swayed. Bright arches of bright blue, purple, green, yellow, pink, red, and white arched off the center of blinding light. As if it was throwing out burst of life. Flashing like lightening off it. Some disconnecting and flickering out, other snapping back in to take in power and then arch out again. As if the whole thing was fighting to flare its power out into the world around it.

Like it was screaming, silently, calling and beckoning with the flares and pulls of light. Bee's spark gave a hard tug. Some place deep inside of him suddenly still before it went to shoving. As if his spark was trying to force him to his feet.

Like it wanted closer.

Like it could hear something.

An echo of something drifted through Bee. Something he couldn't make out. Like a voice too far out of range. You knew it was talking, but no matter how hard you tried, you just _couldn't_ make it out.

Vents heaving, optics wide, Bee stared up at the thing he knew somehow was furious. Screaming. Angry and loud. He couldn't hear it, but he could all the same. At least a piece of him could.

His spark slammed against its chamber. As if it was trying to get out and go to it. Whatever it was.

 _"Understand?"_ The voice snapped him to the left. Doorwings flaring wide behind him as his gaze swung around and he found himself staring down at Risk's optics. The cat sitting beside him. It had been so long since he'd heard that voice he almost didn't recognize it, but he had never truly forgotten. He knew he never would.

It was the fact that he talked but he was dead.

Gone.

Forever.

Yet here.

Sitting beside him in this flickering mist kind of way with those optics staring up at him expectantly.

"What?" He asked.

Risk looked back to the strange image. Audios tilting forward and twitching his tail toward it.

 _"Understand?"_

"No." Bee shook his head hard.

No.

No he _really_ didn't. He didn't understand _any_ of it.

Risk sighed. Optics looking a little sad as he looked back to the mechling. He blinked for a moment as Bee sat there on his knees staring back at him before the robo-cat huffed out a sigh.

 _"Sorry. All got. Have to understand on own."_

"Risk, I don't—how—what is—"

But the images were fading. Right before his optics they were both flickering out as if they had never been there in the first place. Bee reached out. Knowing he wouldn't be able to touch but desperately doing it all the same. Swiping for the robo-cat's form. His hand flew right through and with one last long look it was all gone.

Leaving Bee sitting there on his knees at the end of a hall with his spark hammering.

What was happening to him?

* * *

It took quite a lot of coaxing to get Hot Rod out of the boiler room, but Drift had more than a little experience in the area of coaxing Roddy out of hiding. They had their fair share of things to hide from; they'd gotten into more than enough trouble throughout the Academy and afterward. Some things worse than others and the ghost that was hanging over Roddy's head now was almost as scary as the truth was.

Drift didn't blame him.

It wasn't a place Hot Rod let himself fall back to often. Sentinel and all he had done was nothing short of a taboo topic for the Autobots now. Especially after what War and Dust had brought to light with their little field trip with Trickster they took after the last Ring was destroyed.

But there were other things about that old mech that were put away because the one that had suffered for them didn't want to remember. And no bot around here—at least the ones that knew the whole story—could say they did either. Grayscale was not a mech or an event that any of them liked to recall.

But there was a very good reason Roddy thought—deep down in a place that was hard to flush out—he didn't deserve to have happiness. It all ran back to that lie.

Tucked into Drift's side the bright colored commander let his friend lead him up out of the sublevels and back toward his room. Roddy's arms held tight to himself while Drift's left one was wrapped snuggling around his shoulders and the other lifted to hold Roddy's fingers lightly as they walked.

He had calmed down, but that didn't mean he was in a good mindset. If Drift was kind enough to keep supporting him as they walked along, staying out of sight only by a miracle of Primus as they headed toward Roddy's quarters, then Hot Rod was by no means going to complain.

He was still in the processes of trying to brush it off. Trying not to think about it. All while his mind was running every horrible possibly he knew came next. This was not something he could get away from, he knew that, but that didn't mean he had any idea how to face it.

So instead of talking about the real problem like Hot Rod knew Drift wanted to he was content to take the topics elsewhere as they walked along.

"Have you been thinking about what I asked you?" He started.

Drift's surprise was obvious in his field for a moment before the white mech nodded. "Yeah, I have."

Roddy's bright blue optics held those paler ones in a sideways kind of watch. "Well?"

"I would be honored." Drift smiled at him. "But you're kind of without a ship at the moment."

Hot Rod snorted. "Yeah, I know. But that doesn't mean you can't be promoted. What's left of my crew is still my crew. Just because we're all on one ship doesn't mean that has changed. At least, I don't think. Maybe it should . . . I—"

"Stop that." Drift cut in with a hard breath making Roddy falter half a step before he picked up their pace again. "Really, Roddy. I mean it. You have to stop that. What happened isn't your fault. Optimus isn't taking your rank or your crew away from you. You're a wonderful captain. If it hadn't been for your quick thinking with that warp drive we'd _all_ be dead. _You_ did that, Roddy. _You_ saved us."

Roddy knew that was true. Honestly, he did, but that didn't make it easy to except.

"Okay." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I just . . . well you know . . . I'm _me_."

"Yeah," Drift rolled his optics with a duh tone. "I'm kinda your best friend. I know who you are."

Roddy couldn't help but laugh at that. Optics sliding over to shine with a silent 'thank you' that Drift only grinned a bit more at.

"Yeah, Roddy. I'll be your SIC. I'd be honored."

"I think it would be fitting." Roddy couldn't help but smile a bit at the pleased flexing of Drift's field. "Probably should have done it _vorns_ ago."

Drift snorted a laugh at that. "I wasn't a part of your crew _vorns_ ago. Technically, I'm still not. You had me burrowed."

Roddy huffed. "Well Optimus can get over it. He can't have you back."

Drift full on giggled at that. Roddy taking up the sound as well as they walked along down the hall. Pressed together, field brushing happily. It was hard for Roddy's processor to haunt him like this. All the bad fell away when Drift was close by. It was so hard to be sad when Drift wanted him to be happy.

The same was the reverse for the white mech too. Ever since their Academy orns they had held each other up. Leaning on and standing up for the other over and over again. Even when back then it was not the smartest place for a mech like Drift to be. Standing beside the Prime's embarrassment he was constantly trying to both hide and secretly get rid of.

That didn't stop Drift though. He had growled to every long, demeaning look. He had fluffed his armor at every spy that thought he didn't notice them.

Roddy had spent so much time back then trying to fit in, trying to do right, trying to be liked he had been blind to it all. Blind to what was happening apart from the obvious stuff that even he couldn't deny when Drift flung the truth under his noseplate. It was that desperation to be what he thought he was suppose to be that lead to Grayscale.

Roddy hadn't listened to Drift back then and Optimus, Elita, Chromia, Arcee, Magnus, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl, and Ratchet had been too busy to notice. That is until Roddy was leaking in the dark of his apartment where Drift found him the morning after it had all gone so very wrong. After the lying glitch had almost accomplished what Sentinel's Council—not that they could prove it, but they all knew—had paid him to do.

Drift had busted down Roddy's door that morning after not being able to get a hold of him the night before or that morning. Had finally listened to the worry in his spark and sprinted over to his friend's apartment. Tripping over the corpse of the bastard his best friend was being courted by. The one that was lying, spying, and paid to kill him.

He had almost succeed too, because Roddy had been so desperate to have somebot want him that he didn't see the truth in front of his optics until it tired to but a plasma round through his spark.

Roddy had been sprawled in the middle of his berthroom floor. Half dead, leaking out. The glitch had almost succeeded. Only Roddy's youth in the streets of Hive City had saved him. Drift found him leaking there, crying there. In a pool of energon that was and wasn't his. Next to that cold grey frame he had somehow managed to stop.

Drift had panicked.

He still didn't really _remember_ the call he made to Ratchet. He didn't remember them all rushing in. He didn't remember what had been said or done really. All he remembered was huddling there on the floor in a pool of energon as he held his best friend. Letting Roddy cry into his shoulder as he desperately tried to stop the leaking until Ratchet got there. Pressing his white fingers into the deep gashes and wounds.

Only moving when Ironhide had to quite literally tear him away from Roddy's side to let Ratchet and Arcee save him. Even now the yelling and cursing that had followed the orns after was nothing but dull noise in the back of his mind.

He didn't remember.

He didn't need to.

All he had needed to do then was stand by his friends' side. Which was what he did. From a medical berth, to Optimus' apartment, to an investigation that had ended in Magnus, Optimus, Elita, Ironhide, Prowl, and Chromia finding that not even they had any power over the Councils lies.

There was nothing they could do.

Those old greedy fools—by Sentinel's orders or not—had taken Roddy's life, his very spark, and played with it in the worst way possible. Paying a mech to befriend him, romance him, court him, pretend to want to be something Roddy so desperately wanted, and then murder him after getting close enough to make it hurt in the worse way possible. To make Roddy watch his wants and hopes shatter before him as the mech he was trusting his spark with pulled a trigger over his spark.

And there was _nothing_ any of them had been able to do about it.

Roddy killed the mech to save his own life and all the evidence had died with him. The proof was gone, but they all knew the truth. Knew that the Council—Sentinel—wanted the Prime's bastard mistake gone so bad they were willing to go that far to make it happen.

It was that moment that something inside Roddy had changed forever. He healed, sure, but a piece inside him never did. From then on out Optimus had hid him. In every shape and form. For the war had started not long after and while Megatron never knew who Roddy was Optimus went to even greater links to assure that it never happened. That piece of Roddy that had died that night Grayscale tried to kill him would always be there though.

It was the part that made him think he wasn't right. That he didn't deserve to have what he had been given or what he wanted. It was why when he realized he loved Magnus all those vorns ago he come running scared to Drift.

Because the last mech he thought he loved had all been a lie. Had in fact been sent to do nothing _but_ lie to him until he tried to kill him. It wasn't that Roddy had thought Magnus ever capable of doing the same thing, but it was not something that went away. No, it haunted Roddy. It made him fear anything his spark thought was true and had for a long time.

On top of all the other reason he knew he couldn't feel this way because of, that one made it all the more worse. No matter how long Drift spent telling him that what he felt for Magnus was not the same thing.

That it was different.

It still scared Roddy.

Drift knew that it might always, unless Magnus felt the same way. Unless Magnus did and could show Roddy what real love was.

Drift thought he might. He'd been growing this sneaking suspicion for a while, but he couldn't know for sure.

Well, that is, he couldn't know for sure until he keyed open Roddy's door, watching it slide away letting them slip inside to find Magnus sitting on Roddy's berth with his head in his hands. The way the big mech looked up and then jerked to his feet at the sight of the red, yellow, and orange commander told Drift all he needed to know.

And something in his spark became a little lighter because of it.

* * *

He was shivering by the time he made it back to the room. Armor rattling against his protoform. Doorwings plastered down to his back. Breathing hitching. The door hardly shut behind him before Scout and Echo had sprang off the berth. Bounding the room in two steps before they were both winding around him.

High, distresses whimpers ringing from Echo while Scout growled a low rumble. Bee ignored them both. Unable to even pulse them an answer to what was wrong until he crashed down to the smaller berth pressed against Hide and Mia's slightly larger one. Faceplate first into his pillow he paused only to take a breath before he snatched for his covers and went to pulling. Not stopping until he was burrowed deep under his covers. Scout and Echo had climbed up onto the end of the berth after him. Having gone quite at his actions. Only low whines rising from either of them as they crawled forward. One on each side of him, flattening out onto their bellies, heads tucked low until they were right down the sides of him. Pressing against his sides, nosing in at his face from where he had it pressed firmly into the pillow.

His breathing was still ragged but with the two black hounds licking at his cheeks it was something of a ground. Allowing him to slow down his rolling process just enough to pull out a hand, reaching for Echo. The femme hound allowed herself to be pulled as he rolled to bury his faceplate into her thickening armor of her shoulder. She gave a soft whine. Licking at his pinned antennas unsure what else to do.

Scout pushed up on his front paws behind them. Wiggling over until his head was draped across Bee's shoulder. Front paws pressed between Bee's wings. The two of them whined and for a moment that was it until finally they realized they weren't going to get any answers until they made him talk.

 _"Bee?"_ Echo called over the pack bond.

They didn't get an answer.

His mind and spark were too full to focus.

Scout tried next. _"Bee? What matter?"_

Bee finally rolled up onto his back. Allowing the two hounds to rest their muzzles against his chest. Those black optics shining in worry up at him.

 _"You okay?"_ Echo pressed.

Bee didn't know how to explain what he was. Though that was a statement that went far beyond this moment right here. For the moment though he couldn't think of an explanation. That was why he was in his berth and not in the medical bay. Technically he wasn't hurt—at least he was pretty sure he wasn't—his insides just felt weird. His spark unhappy on a level that it hadn't been in any way he could remember.

It didn't _hurt_ it was just _unhappy_. Like it wanted something.

What that was though he had no idea. No fraggin' idea what so ever.

 _"Do you two believe in ghosts?"_ He finally asked.

Echo's head tilted against his chest while Scout picked his up a little and flicked his scarred audio.

 _"Ghosts?"_ He mimicked. _"What a ghost?"_

 _"A dead thing that comes back. Not to life, but back to the world."_ Bee didn't really know how to explain it. Not even this part. How did he put this into a way that they hounds would understand it? They didn't have any grasp of life and death like the ones Bee had grown up with. Their idea of it was very different.

They processed it similar, but not completely the same.

However, the two hounds take of the explanation was nothing like he thought it would be.

 _"Oh."_ Echo said. _"Spirits."_

Bee paused. Because, yeah technically he suppose that could be the same thing, but the way Echo said it made him wonder as to how for some reason _that_ was the term they understood.

 _"Spirits?"_ Bee repeated.

 _"Gone sparks."_ She said. _"Sparks that already dead, but seen. Only Spirit Seer see them."_

Bee stared at her. _"Spirit Seer? What is a Spirit Seer?"_

 _"Can see."_ Scout replied.

 _"See what?"_

 _"Truth."_

Bee stared at the both of them. Spark calming in its chamber. Almost purring as the word sank in. He didn't completely comprehend what it was the pups were saying, and while he kept asking them to explain there wasn't much more of an explanation the hounds could give him. They seemed to know this simple answer and understand it on a level that Bee couldn't wrap his mind around.

To Scout and Echo it seemed so simple and when he told them the things he had seen, while they didn't get the last thing he described the rest of it didn't seem to bother them at all.

He didn't know what to do next.

He felt better now—for some reason—but he didn't know what any of it meant. More than that though, he didn't know what to do now. Let alone what to do with the sinking suspicion that he was going to be figuring out very soon. Whether he liked it or not.

* * *

Roddy froze.

Optics widening, backstrut straightening, armor tightening. He found he could do nothing but stand there and stare. Watching as Magnus pushed himself fully upright, optics locking on his own. Stepping forward a pace only to freeze himself when Hot Rod flinched back from him.

The only reason he didn't take off running again was because of Drift's arms around him. The white mech highlighted in red stopping him before he could flee.

And then they all stood there staring at each other.

For far longer than they should have until Ultra Magnus spoke.

"Roddy,"

That seemed to be all he was capable of saying at the moment. Those light optics fixed down on to Hot Rod's even brighter ones. The two of them staring at each other in the tiny supply closet that was Roddy's new room. The one that still smelt a bit too much like highgrade and now played containment box for fields doing too much flexing in too small a space.

Drift uncurling his arms from Roddy's frame and stepping away almost went without notice. Hot Rod was too busy staring up at the taller commander. It was only when Drift spoke that Roddy realized what was happening.

"I suppose I'll leave you two to it then." The swordsmech was stepping away then. Backing out the door with a twinkle in his optics that Roddy didn't have the processor power at the moment to define. No matter if he had been trying to or not.

He was too busy squeaking like a sparkling and reaching out of his friend. "Drift—"

But the quick cut of those blue optics back into his own stopped him. For a few klicks Roddy didn't get it. Drift . . . Drift was leaving him?

Why?

What had he done wrong now?

Drift . . . Drift had always been there. Since that first intro class at Primus-awful o'clock in the morning when Roddy had almost been late to class and fell into the seat next to him. Having been in such a hurry because his alarm hadn't gone off that he forgot everything. Datapads, textbooks, pens. _Everything_. Just knowing that he'd already screwed up. That he was already going to get kicked out and Optimus wasn't going to be able to do anything.

Then, this complete strange sitting in the chair next to him pushed his open textbook into the space between them. Surprising Roddy out of his silent panic enough that he looked up into blue optics and a slight smile.

'You can read with me, if you like.' He had said. Smile open and inviting. 'I'm Drift, by the way.'

Disbelief had surged stronger through Roddy in that moment then he knew what to do with, but quietly, with his own smile slipping into place he said back. 'Hot Rod, but everybot calls me Roddy.'

And from that moment a lifelong friendship was born.

But now Drift was walking away. Roddy didn't understand and it must have shown in his optics because Drift smiled that same smile he had the orn they met and nodded reassuring at him. A silent it'll be okay, then he nodded respectfully to Magnus and was gone.

Leaving Roddy standing there just inside the doorway of his new room looking up at the mech who had meant more to him through his life then anybot else _ever_ had. The steady presence that lead him back to center more times than he could count. The steady, sure, and steadfast. The unflinching faith in him he'd never thought he deserved but always secretly craved when he looked into those slightly darker optics.

They looked down at him now with fear, uncertainty, and something that looked remarkably like hope. None of which Roddy got because he'd been expecting anger, disgust, and regret.

It wasn't there though.

Why?

Why wasn't it there?

Magnus opened his mouth again after another handful of klicks. Seeming to have gathered himself if the way he straightened his back and the resolve in his optics was anything to go by, but all of a sudden Hot Rod was terribly afraid of it.

"I'm sorry." The words burst out before he could stop them and they came with a frantic hand movement that if he wasn't the one making he would have made fun off. Because it really did look pretty ridiculous. This odd mix of waving and slashing around in front of his faceplate as he suddenly stepped forward to gaze up Magnus' front.

The bigger mech's optics flashed in surprise at the words. Something dimming in those pools. "You're sorry?"

"Yes." Roddy nodded rapidly, processor slipping and spark sobbing, but he ignored it. This was what had to be done. He would blame the highgrade, and the hangover. That would be believable.

Probably.

Well, it would work well enough. He would call it all an accident and maybe Magnus would forgive him and they could go on like it didn't happen. Roddy would go back to hiding his emotions away in the bottom of his spark. Sitting on them and refusing to acknowledge them and eventually they would go away.

Drift was right about deserving happiness. Well, at least Roddy told himself that. He wasn't sure he completely understood it nor could he except it, but he would nod along with Drift said it all the same. For this though, Drift couldn't be right.

He just couldn't.

So Roddy went on. He swallowed his crying spark and he pressed on.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean too. It was an accident."

"Accident?" Magnus echoed him. Big shoulders drooping and optics dimming even further. If Roddy didn't know any better he'd say the big mech looked like his spark was slowly shattering. But that . . . that _couldn't_ be right.

"Yeah. Of course." He forged ahead. "Too much highgrade. Hungover. Upset."

Maybe if he said it out loud, he too would believe it.

"It was an accident. I mean come on; I screw up all the time right? Not that hard to believe. It wasn't on purpose. I mean, I _wanted_ too, Primus I wanted too but—"

He cut himself off with a startled choke. Vocalizer freezing up with the realization of what it just allowed his spark to slip out.

 _No. No, no, no, no, no!_

Optics widening in horror he snapped his gaze to Magnus' suddenly widening optics. For a moment something between confusion and shock warred on Magnus' faceplate before slowly it fell away as the big mech picked himself up out of his slump. Optics brightening again and a small tilt of his lips that might possibly be a smile came to life.

Roddy was too busy panicking to take much note of it. Rapidly trying to backtrack he threw his hands up again. Waving them frantically back and forth.

"No! I mean—I was just—I didn't—you see it's totally not—"

Huge, white hands wrapped gently around his flying wrist forcing him to a stop.

Roddy locked up.

Optics darting up to find Magnus' again only to stall at the warmth he found there. The fond smile curling up his lips as the big mech stepped closer.

Roddy didn't realize he was retreating until he found himself backing into the little slab of wall to the left of the door next to the berth. It was instinctual. His frame still afraid and trying to flee even as he stared shocked up at the big mech.

Magnus wasn't letting him go this time though. Normally the big mech let Roddy run when he was flighty, but this time those huge hands stayed wrapped tightly around Roddy's wrist. His huge frame shadowing Roddy there against the wall.

Roddy found his vocal processor and tongue turned to lead. Even if his spark and processor that normally ran a million miles per breem was stalled stuck. Leaving him staring up with wide optics to the larger mech as one of Magnus' hands wrapped fully around Roddy's wrist and the other lifted away.

Slowly, measured, making sure every move was easy to see and clear. He was going to touch, and while he had Roddy held if the smaller mech really wanted out of his grip he could do it. At least he _should_ be able to do it. In all honesty, at the moment, Con could press a blade to his neck and demand movement right now and all he'd be able to do would be stand there limply and stare.

He couldn't tear his optics away from the shine staring down at him. Even with Magnus' hand finally cupped the side of his face. Fingers brushing gently over the edge of his bright yellow crest while his thumb edged the corner of his lips. Not touching those lips, but close enough that Roddy felt his breath catch and then refuse to come out.

At all.

Like he kind of wondered if he was dead. Or dreaming.

Yeah.

Maybe he was dreaming.

Because this could not be happening.

"Oh Roddy," Magnus whispered it so softly that Roddy almost didn't hear it. In fact, if he'd been breathing he probably would have missed it all together, but he didn't miss it. He heard it.

Some piece of his spark started dancing while his processor skipped a beat and he found himself unable to do anything but stare up into Magnus' optics.

"Did you know I had an arranged mating?"

Roddy's draw dropped open.

Because . . . what? He . . . huh?

"What?" He blinked.

That . . . that hadn't been what he was expecting.

Magnus knew that. It was far from the thing he wanted to say right now, but he had too, because he knew what was brewing in Roddy's processor. Under the levels of his horrible habit of thinking he wasn't good enough was an excuse the massive mech knew he would use. And he wasn't going to let him.

No.

Not now.

Not after he just said that.

He was going to get this out of the way right here and now so there wasn't anything else Roddy could hide behind.

"Artemis and I had an arrange mating." He repeated himself, seeing in the younger mech's optics that he didn't understand. He figured he wouldn't. It hadn't been common knowledge. Stuff like that had happened all the time in the society they lived in, it was _very_ common for high chaste to arrange their sparkling's bondings. For political ties, for money, for power, just because they could.

It was the way things were done.

It was common.

It was normal.

It was excepted.

It had never been fair.

But Magnus had been nothing if not a good son. It was all he had striven for in those vorns. To do exactly what was expected of him.

It took a whole lot for him to learn that wasn't the path he wanted to walk and it wasn't the path any _should_ walk.

"You remember arrange bondings don't you?" He asked.

When Roddy nodded slowly he took that as good enough and went on.

"Well that was what my sparkmate and I were. Our creators set up the whole thing before either of us were even born. I never met Artemis until the night of the ceremony."

Roddy blinked at him. Optics comically wide as he slowly shook his head. "But . . . but I thought . . . . You two . . . you . . . ."

"We were complete strangers." Magnus cut him off. "But that was the normal way things were. We did as our creators expected. We bonded, mated, and went on with our lives. Don't get me wrong, she was wonderful. Clever and beautiful. She became my best friend."

Roddy wasn't sure if he should be crying or yelling.

Because . . . what? What was this?

What was happening?

"And I grew to love her, in our own way, very much."

Roddy felt sick.

What . . . why?

He didn't realize there were tears in his optics until that thumb at the edge of his lips lifted to wipe them away. Magnus' bright optics dimming slightly at the sight of them, but what else was the big mech expecting?

Roddy . . . he . . . he _loved_ him and here he was saying this. Everything Roddy knew was the reason he'd never have a chance. Because Magnus had already had a mate. He had already loved and Roddy was nothing but the scrap of a mechling he was stuck looking after.

He was a fool. He was—

"But that was nothing like I love you."

—Hearing things. That was what he was. He was hearing things.

Gaze snapping back up, to widen even more Roddy's jaw dropped back open from where it had sometime snapped close in tension.

" _Wh-wh-a_?" He squeaked.

Smiling down at him, Magnus' optics shown brighter then Hot Rod ever remembered seeing them as he spoke again. "I love you, Roddy."

For a few klicks nothing happened. All Roddy could do was stand there and stare. Shock making everything in him far too still, but then, his spark started swelling. Joy bursting to life in is center in a flare like a super nova before it started singing.

"You . . . you . . . what?"

He was pretty sure he heard right, at least, he was mostly sure. But he . . . he could _so_ hear it again.

"I love you." Magnus said again.

Feeling the bright beam curling up his lips Roddy whispered. "You do?"

Magnus nodded. "Yes."

Roddy knew he should probably reply. Something along the lines of 'I love you too'. Or that they should have some conversation about these things.

That was probably the responsible thing to do.

Roddy didn't much care for responsible or anything logical at the moment. Instead he surged forward. Almost climbing Magnus' front in the motion of crashing his lips into his. This wasn't like the time before. There was no flare of shock or stillness from the larger.

Oh no.

The flare of energy through his energy field this time was nothing but happiness, disbelief, and something far heavier, want. Roddy stopped noticing after two nanos though. Because Magnus was kissing him back. That massive frame rocking forward as his arms came around. Wrapping tight around Hot Rod as he pressed forward to lock him against the wall.

The happy hum of their sparks surging against their chambers in a gleeful song.

* * *

 **And for my Valentines gift to you all, Roddy and Mags stop being idiots! *throws flowers***

 **Hope you liked it! ^-^ Thank you all once again for reading and reviewing. I can't wait to see what you have to say about this one! _So much_ important stuff!**

 **By the way, I'm still working on those prompts on both blogs-so, so, so many-I just took a break to get this chapter done. I didn't figure you'd all mind. I'm going to put them up with the other shorts soon and as I get the rest of them done. The challenge is still open, I'm thinking I'll leave it open for a few more days at least.**

 **Anyway, I adore you all. Thanks for reading and I'll see you next time!**

 **-Jaycee**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Enjoy. ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 6

"The All Spark." Optimus repeated, staring back into Jazz's visor as the silver mech shrugged.

"Yeah."

The four of them stared back at him for at least two whole klicks before Ironhide mumbled. "That's not possible."

"That's that I said!" Jazz snapped, throwing up a clawed hand and waving it around at them.

"But you're looking at it." Prowl said quietly.

"But I don't _get_ it!" Jazz growled, waving his claws around in frantic frustration. "It's _gone_! They blew it up! _Millions_ of vorns ago!"

"That's an old tribal tale, you don't know for—"

"You really think it's just a story?" Jazz challenged. Turning to look hard back at his friend. Optics narrow behind his visor and claws tense around the table before him.

Prowl knew the challenge there in Jazz's gaze. That old fire of still defending the life he had been born too. Jazz might have hated his sire, but he did not hate his tribe. He still held tight to many of the things he grew up with. For that matter so did Ironhide.

Which was why the massive weapons specialist looked like he did standing there just inside the doorway. This confused dim in his optics as he thought. He knew the story as well as any of them did. He had been a part of a tribe just as much as Jazz had.

He knew the story of how the Knights destroyed the All Spark. Myth or not that was the story they had all been told growing up. In the tribes or not the _civilized_ knew that story. Whether or not they believed in the Knights or anything else the tribes did. That had been the explanation for the missing artifact for all of them. It had also been one of the points of starting the fight with the tribes in the first place.

They all knew it.

It was supposed to be gone.

Forever.

"Hold on for a klick." Chromia spoke up; walking forward until she was staring down at the data Jazz has sorting though. "How do you _know_ it's the All Spark? How can you just _know_ that?"

"I don't for sure." Jazz admitted. Arms crossing over his chest. "It's just, the readings all seem to be coming up with the same thing. Giant, cube shaped, thing of power. Sounds like the All Spark to me."

"Or any other weapon the Cons might have come up with." She challenged. "They had a fraggin' Ion Cannon."

"Yeah," Jazz nodded. "And where the frag did they get it? Something is going on out there in the desert. There is a reason he was out there in the middle of nowhere. He found something, or he's looking for something. But we're not gonna know what is going on until you decide to let us go find out."

His bright blue optics were fixed on Optimus now.

The Prime, his own arms crossed over his chest, stood thinking as he looked down at him. "This can't be a coincidence."

"I agree." Prowl put in softly. "The only question is why. Who sent this, why was Jazz able to get it, what are we missing?"

"As usual, what is right in front of your fraggin' faces."

They all spun, more than a few weapons systems on lining as they all flung their gazes to the right corner of the crowded room to find the towering form of dark black armor and ice blue optics.

"Trickster." Optimus rumbled lowly, lifting a hand and placing it on Ironhide's shoulder to stop the mech's whining cannons.

A half grin was spread brightly over Trickster's lips, glittering in the light of the room as he gazed back at the Prime. "Hello, Optimus. Long time no see."

"No long enough." Ironhide growled, under his breath.

Trickster gave a mock gasp, plastering a clawed hand over his spark. "What? You mean you haven't missed me? Mech, I'm wounded. Truly I am. Why, I don't think I'll ever really recover."

Prowl snorted at him. "Don't be dramatic, Trickster."

"But it's in my very nature." The black mech chuckled.

Pushing off the wall and strolling forward with little to no concern as to the glares the mechs gave him. Instead he simply slipped around Ironhide's growling bulk and Optimus' narrow gaze to smile down at the femmes.

"Hello," He smirked. "I don't think we've ever been _properly_ introduced I'm—"

Mia's fist slamming hard into his nose plate the Guild member had to admit he didn't see coming. With a startled yelp he reeled backward, hands clasping his rapidly leaking nose plate, as he blinked stunned down at the glaring dark blue femme.

Jazz and Hide busted out laughing.

"A glitch." Chromia hissed at him. "What do you want?"

"Gah!" He whined, backing up a few more steps as he pinched and started rubbing at his stinging nose plate. Pulling his hands away to stare at the drips of blue before pinching his noseplate again in an effort to stop the leaking. Glaring down at her now and the grinning femme. "That hurt!"

"It was a punch, it was supposed to." She snorted at him.

Pulling his hand away as his nanites clouted enough that he could let go, Trickster sneered. "You know, I've never punched a femme before, but right now I'm thinking about it."

Ironhide's cannons cycled a burst of charge, heating the plasma in the barrels with a hot whine as he growled. "You even try it and—"

"Enough." The Prime suddenly rumbled, drawing all their optics back to him. Even Trickster's. "Did you really come here to start a fight with a femme that could kick your aft, Trickster?"

"I don't think she could kick my aft." He retorted.

"Wanna bet?" Chromia hissed at him. "Just think about coming anywhere near my youngling, we'll see."

Those ice blue optics drifted back down to Mia's dark ones. "Is that what you're being bitchy about? Please. If I wanted the mechling, I'd have come to the mechling. Obviously, I didn't, which means I'm still not interested. Yet."

Her optics narrowed into thin slits, a growl rumbling through her loud enough to match Ironhide's, but when Elita's hand curled gently around her upper arm she stopped. Casting her sister a glance while Elita held her gaze on the Guild member.

"What do you want, Trickster?"

"Well," He drawled, straightening up and steepled his hands before him. "It's funny you should ask."

"Is it?" Ironhide huffed at him.

"Yes." Trickster nodded, but there was something dark creeping into his optics, and then there was a datapad laying on Jazz and Prowl's desk. Appearing in a little flash of light that made them all tense a bit before their optics settled down on the rather harmless looking device.

For a nano they all stared at it, then slowly, Jazz reached forward and picked it up. Sliding his claw across the screen watching it light up. For a klick he was quiet then looked up at Trickster with a confused expression.

"What is this?"

"Call it a hint. And technically I'm cheating, so don't tell Prui, but well I don't entirely think it's fair."

"What's not fair?" Prowl pushed.

Those ice blue optics settled on him before dancing back to Optimus'. "What comes next."

Something dark and heavy settled into all their chest as Trickster went on.

"I'd keep an optic on the little mech if I were you. Things are happening."

Then he was gone.

* * *

Jazz was growling again.

"So what is it?" Ironhide asked after a good ten klicks of standing there watching Jazz mess with the datapad Trickster had given them. The saboteur ignored him in favor of choosing at that moment to bang the little black device onto the desk repeatedly while cursing.

"Damn, stupid, fraggin', Guild! Can't give a fraggin' straight answer to save their damn lives! How hard is it!? Honestly!? How fraggin' hard is it to just _tell_ us something straight up!?"

"Stop that." Prowl softly chided him, reaching out to take the datapad before the next hit he could give it. "Calm down, Jazz."

"Calm down!?" Jazz hissed at him. "Calm down!? He did it _again_! He just shows up with these vague threats and warnings and then poofs away! Like he expects it to be helpful! It's not helpful!"

At that Prowl turned his optics to Optimus letting the silver mech fall back down into his chair and fume quietly.

"We'll work on this a bit more. I'll call you in the morning."

Optimus didn't looked pleased, but then, that was because he wasn't. However, he gave a slow nod and a tilt of his helm for the rest of them to go. Ironhide was grumbling as much as Jazz was and Chromia hadn't glared like that in orns, but they followed Elita and Optimus all the same out into the hallway with a shared sigh.

"I really hate that bastard." Ironhide growled. "What was it even about this time?"

"Who knows," Optimus huffed. "If Prowl and Jazz figure out that datapad we might know, but its Trickster. I've no idea what he's talking about even when he's not speaking in riddles."

"He's a glitch." Chromia glared back at the door behind them as if the Guild Member might still be back there.

"Just be glad he's staying away from Bumblebee." Elita told her sister quietly, ignoring the hot flash through the slightly shorter femme's optics as that glare swung to her. "He's not wrong, Mia. He can go and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. The only reason he or any of them have left Bee alone is because it's by their choice. Not by ours."

"I'll skin him." The darker femme whisper hissed, and it was no idle threat. Still, Ironhide's hand lifted and curled around her thinner, smaller fingers. Grounding the wound up femme with a low pulse over the bond.

It took a moment but eventually Mia let out a breath with a firm shake of her head. Squeezing Hide's hand back for a nano before she pulled away and headed down the hall. "I'm going to find my mechling."

Ironhide's dark blue optics followed her with amusement until she rounded the end of the hall and then he smiled over at his friend. Optimus nodded back to him. Thankful at least that this time they weren't all totally off the wall with Trickster showing up.

It had been so long since they saw any of them, that him being here suddenly now of all times did rattle Optimus a little, but it was like Elita and Trickster himself said. If he wanted Bumblebee none of them were going to be able to stop him.

As much as they despised that very notion.

So far though of all the slag Trickster, Evermore, and Impulse had pulled they hadn't lied and they'd never given the slightest hint that they wanted to hurt Bumblebee. Use him, sure, they very much wanted to do that for whatever slagged up greater plan the idiot Guild member kept alluding too. But they seemed to have no problem leaving him where he was for now.

If this wacky little family could make themselves forget—which they weren't doing all that well at—the shouting match Wardrums and Trickster had had involving the only reason they wanting Bumblebee was so that he could die the three glitches almost seemed harmless.

But they weren't harmless.

Optimus knew all too well.

Trickster hadn't denied Wardrums' snarls. There was something more, something darker, bubbling under it all. And the Prime had vowed to do everything within his power to keep the little yellow thing they found in the ashes of catastrophe safe.

The problem was he knew very well that up against these odds he was fighting a losing battle on all sides. It left his spark shivering in his chest.

Optimus cast his optics down to Elita, watching her bright optics stare down to where her sister and her sister's mate had vanished off in search of their little mech—that belonged to this whole family—but was claimed by them.

It left the mated pair standing quietly for a moment before Optimus let out a long breath. "I suppose it's time to go fill in Magnus."

"Where is he anyway?" Elita questioned.

"He went to check on Roddy last night. I imagine he's still making sure he's alright."

Elita's optics dimmed slightly at that. "Is he alright?"

"I suppose it's time to go find that out too."

* * *

A low, rumbling purr took up Hot Rod's whole world. From the tips of his toes to the tips of his crest as he was tucked into the hard but very welcome pin against his berthroom wall. Whole frame encompassed in the warm, massive bulk that was Ultra Magnus. Strong, long arms wrapped tightly around his back as he was pressed tightly to both the wall behind him and the strong frame before him.

Though most of all that was kind of nothing but background information. All he could really process at the moment was the firm, soft press of the larger mech's lips against his own. Hardly breaking a part for more than a quick invent.

A breath Roddy was convinced he didn't want any part of.

Oxygen seemed like such an overrated concept right now.

Really, what was the purpose of it? He was much more content with letting Magnus still every single breath he had from now into . . .well forever if he saw fit. Because Roddy sure had no plans on calling for a stop of any kind any time soon.

Lips yielding under Magnus', whole frame going slack and content as he submitted out of the quick, hard, sudden press. Bowing out of the short fight for control letting Magnus' overwhelming strength press him in and pull him close. Dominating and comforting all massed up in this purring expanse of colossal mech.

Purring right back at him, Roddy shifted in the slowly shifting urgency of their lips that was becoming lazier and happier by the nano. Purring in return to match the deep baritone of Magnus'.

Spark pulsing, surging, and dancing. Almost slamming against the front of its chamber as if it thought that would be enough to convince the protective paneling and locks to peel away and bare itself completely to the one slamming just the same before it.

Magnus' self control over his spark and his frame wasn't much better than the happy slump and curl Roddy was doing. Every fiber in my demanding to pull him closer, tuck him in completely, and never let the smaller go ever again.

His own spark hammering against its chamber in a demand for what it wanted.

It was only sheer force of self control that stopped Magnus from twisting and dumping Roddy on the berth to the side as his spark so demanded. Reining in his spark's yearning with a low rumble as he slowed down the frantic kissing with a few more soft brushes against those soft lips before pulling back just enough to press their foreheads together.

Opening those bright blue optics to find an even brighter shade staring back at him. Slow smile working up those oh so soft lips as the bright mech blinked a little dizzily at him. It might have done a little more for Magnus' self confidence then it necessarily should have to be given that hazed out on emotion stare, but he really wasn't all that bothered by it.

Not when Roddy's arms were laced around his neck, his legs were hooked around his hips, his optics were sparkling like that, his engine was purring so contently, his once before so chaotic and distressed field now buzzing with heat and happiness as it meshed so easily with his own, and those lips. Oh those lips were grinning at him as he leaned forward again and pressed them to Magnus' thicker, fuller ones with a few playful nips that got the larger mech's engine rumbling all over again.

His weight shifted forward until he had even inch of Roddy pressed as tightly to him as he could. Not really surprised by the heat through his own modesty plating, but a little surprised by Roddy's. Even if maybe with the heat in his optics he shouldn't have been.

A high pitch whine echoed out of the smaller mech at the touch, his grip around Magnus tightening and pulling all at the same time as he tried to get even closer than they already were. The tell-tell sounds of the beginnings a very specific transformation process reaching Magnus' audios and it was only a quick grab to Roddy's hip being enough of a shock to stop the younger mech that saved Magnus from the very last shard of his sanity and self control snapping.

"Easy," He whispered, for some reason his deep voice unable to lift above that as he pulled back just enough to put some space between them. Hardly a breath of air really, but the cool space between them didn't go unnoticed and it was hardly appreciated by the smaller.

Roddy whined again, arms and legs tightening in an attempt to pull Magnus flush against him once more. Processor and spark dizzy with the aftermath of the feeling of that kiss. The only thing really clear to any of him was the need to be closer. The need to be as close as fraggin' possible.

Because he loved him.

He fraggin' said he _loved him_!

"Roddy," Magnus scolded lightly, but it was with a warm almost strained pitch to his voice that Roddy didn't see much of the point in listening too.

Nope.

Not at all.

He wanted closer.

His spark wanted closer.

What were words?

What was the need for them now?

Ask him and they were saying more than enough with their lips pressed together then they had managed to do for vorns before. He was much more then content with going back to doing that.

Yep.

Totally.

"Slow down." Magnus pressed again, with his voice, not his frame. Putting another inch of hated but rapidly heating air between them no matter how much Roddy tightened his hold. He was still no match to the sheer power that made up the larger mech's frame.

Now was probably a horrible time to remember how attractive that was too, wasn't it?

Oh well.

"Why?" He purred, craning forward again for another press of those tantalizing lips. That firm hand on his hip lifted with a drag up his long, aerodynamic side that Magnus knew he shouldn't have done—he was only making this slim grip of control he had even harder to grasp too—but those slim, brightly plating curves dotted with bight red biolights had teased him far too long. And now they were there, right within reach, and they begged to be touched as Roddy arched with it.

And Primus damn him Magnus was only a mech.

However, the touch was brief and light. Just a skim up Roddy's side until he managed to make himself go on so that he had the purring, whining commander by the cheek. Now snuggling and nuzzling into the expanse of the large white palm that took up the length of Roddy's entire head.

The reminder—not that he really needed one when he had his whole frame picked up and pinned before him like he weighed little more than a sparkling—of the younger's size was enough to give Magnus back some since of control. Keeping his frame just out of the clinging reach Roddy had him in while also refusing to let him go.

Instead he bent his neck forward just enough to brush his lips over Roddy's lips one last time before tilting to peck him on the nose, on the cheeks, between his optics, over his crests and his flares, then back again for a repeat.

"Because you need to slow down." _For the both our sakes._

Magnus never claimed to be a saintly mech and he'd been waiting far too long to have the younger this close. Stepping back just this much was harder than he ever figured it would be. Let alone experienced.

He had loved Artemis. They had loved each other, in their own way. Though their relationship had been built and maintained on nothing more than duty to their creators' wishes. Artemis never wanted anything more then to be the mate to a respectable mech and have a family. She cared very little for true love or anything of the sort.

Magnus had accepted that, and never asked her to be something both knew they were not. And over time they had grown very fond of each other. He had called it love, for it was in a sense, but it was not like this.

 _Nothing_ like this.

This burning, surging, demanding pull of his spark. This pining he had dismissed and tried to ignore for so long. This never dwindling _need_ to be close to this mech who undoubtedly drove him absolutely crazy more often than not but never failed to amaze him. With his sheer determination, his cleverness, and his resolve.

Roddy knew and had lived through pain that much of which Magnus had witnessed but could hardly imagine. Compared to Roddy's his life before the war had been a cushioned, easy one. For it was.

He was born to a well off pair, with a high position in the social order, and his life had been laid out clearly and easily before him for his whole youth. And it had all suited him just fine. Ultra Magnus liked order and structure. He found it a key and needed concept that he had no trouble at all with.

It was why Enforcer was a position he had excelled at.

It was only when Optimus found his way into his unit and Magnus found his way into the strange group of family the coming to be Prime had made for himself that he ever began to question any of the world around him.

As much as he was ashamed of some of that now, it was simply the truth.

Hot Rod had been one of the biggest causes of that. Because even if these feelings he had for the younger mech now had not come to be—at least in the way he understood them—until well into the war he had always had a soft spot for the spunky mech.

He had wanted to help him and see him succeed, but it was only after the fall of their whole world that Roddy got the chance. And that was an awful thing, but the truth of it was he was never going to make it out of Sentinel's shadow of shame as long as the old bastard was alive.

No matter how hard he, Optimus, Elita, Ironhide, Chromia, Ratchet, Arcee, Prowl, and Jazz had tried to keep the mech hidden—though Magnus hadn't know the real reason as to _why_ until just a few vorns ago—the ruling Prime had wanted the young mech gone.

And he was willing to do everything and anything to make it happen. Or at least his damned council was.

Including sending a lying, cheating, manipulative glitch into Roddy's life to work his way in and then claw his way out through Roddy's very energon and spark.

The reminder of Grayscale sent a shiver down Magnus' backstrut and an angry fire surging through his belly. As it always did.

But he managed to hide the reaction as he pressed the kisses he was still planting all over Hot Rod's faceplate just a tiny bit harder in the reassurance to himself that he was there. That he was safe. That now he was in _Magnus'_ arms and the colossal mech had no plans on letting him go ever again.

"But I'm a speedster." Roddy giggled at the still going light and feathery kisses, the sound and the sight pulling Magnus back from the darker thoughts he'd slid into. "I don't do slow."

An amused rumble was pulled out of him as he tilted his head to the side then and nuzzled into the soft cabling of Roddy's neck. It got him a whole new note of a purr out of the brightly colored mech that Magnus cataloged to memory and back up files with a tag of 'fraggin' make him do that again'.

Before pulling away and pressing their brows together. Smiling down at Roddy as their cooling fans hummed on lazily in the background at the hotter air between their frames. Opposed to that silence drifted between them. Only their frames creating noise as they lent there together against the wall staring into each others optics.

That crooked grin of Roddy's softly in place as he gazed back up at Magnus.

Then, softly, in hardly more than a breath Roddy whispered. "I love you."

The low, happy hum through Magnus' chest and another long, hard kiss was his answer. Frame arching up and melting against the stretching of the larger in a happy keening bend before Magnus pulled away just enough to whisper back.

"I love you too."

Roddy whined and pressed harder into him. "Primus, I've been waiting so long to hear you say that. Again, say it again."

Magnus' engine gave a hard rev as he pressed them harder together against that wall. Not a micro inch of space between their frames, crushing his lips hard into Roddy again all while speaking through breaths stolen between them.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

Another high, happy sound through the smaller as he surged back up into the kiss and the hold. The click of a keying lock followed by the soft swish of an old door went completely unnoticed to the pair of them. To lost in each others' touch in both frame and field to be bothered by the world outside the hot surging of the air around them.

That is, until Optimus shouted.

"What the _frag_!?"

* * *

He couldn't get much more buried then he currently was.

Okay, so that wasn't _really_ true.

He could.

He supposed.

But that would take the effort of getting off the berth and right now Bumblebee had no interest in that concept what so ever. The blankets he'd already had on his berth were just going to have to do well enough. Considering there were at least six layers of mesh fabric of various softness and age between him and the outside world he figured that was just about good enough.

Now rationally, the mechling was old enough to know that blankets were not actually much defense against the monsters of the outside world, but frankly he didn't give a damn. He didn't care how old a bot got, there was just something remarkably comforting about yanking the covers over your head and hiding from what it was that had scared you. About pretending that there was nothing out there bad that could hurt you.

Considering he was pretty sure he was seeing ghosts—and his hounds thought it was perfectly _normal_ —he was pretty sure he deserved to hide under the covers like a sparkling and wish the monsters away.

Therefore, that was exactly where he was.

Curled into the tightest ball he could manage with every limb wrapped up tight, doorwings plastered to his back, antennas tucked tightly into their notches he just lay there. Optics squeezed shut in an attempt to make some of it go away. Maybe.

When he closed his optics he saw it again though.

That burning, surging, _angry_ life.

And it was alive.

Whatever it was.

Bumblebee knew that much.

He didn't really know how he knew that, or what it was exactly that told him that, but he knew. Somehow.

He'd tried explaining that to Scout and Echo as well. How was it he could be seeing dead things but know that thing had been alive. To that they'd had no answer either. Big, glittering black optics staring up at him with this kind of expression he didn't know how to decipher.

Considering the bond they shared that was saying a lot.

Normally he understood the hounds without even have to try. Now he didn't have a clue in the universe what the frag they were talking about. They didn't seem to understand why he was so bothered by all of it either.

That was one of the weirdest parts about all of it. To them it seemed completely normal. No need to be questioned at all.

Which was why they didn't seem to get the cold upset brewing in the bottom of his tanks, or why he was hidden so far under the blankets not even their clawed pawing could get him to come out. After a breem and a half of it that no amount of whining or pawing at him could change they eventually settled for a pile of hound on top of him and his blanket fortress.

It was a decision that was perfectly alright with him. Feeling them breathing over him, the weight of their frames, was a reminder that he wasn't by himself. It too was a great deal comforting.

That was how Mia and Hide found him a few klicks later. The door swishing away was not a sound he bothered coming out of the fortress to face. If anything he was a tiny bit scared to. So under the covers he stayed, balled up as tightly as he could manage.

Scout and Echo however popped up as soon as the key lock chimed. Tall audios pointed and optics wide open to see who it was that was coming in. At the sight of their brother's creators Echo's tail gave a low wag that was nowhere near the reaction she normally had to them. She scooted around on the berth with a low whine. Dipping her head and folding her audios in an attempt to convey to those that couldn't understand her that something wasn't right.

Bee felt like flicking her on the audio for it.

Scout gave a low growl as the pair of adopted creators glanced around the room before realizing the little yellow thing they were after was tucked under that pile of hounds and blankets. At Echo's uneasy reaction and Scout's low warning growl it only took half a nano for the two of them to figure out something was wrong.

"Bee?" Hide rumbled lowly across the room. The door shutting behind them as Mia hurried over to the tiny fold up berth pressed to their own make shift one. Crawling up into the middle of it without so much of a glance at the hounds. Echo made a show of shoving her brother who was growling and hissing his unhappiness the whole time, but went along with his sister. Hopping off the berth in favor of curling up just to the side on the floor. Watching carefully as Mia placed herself down carefully beside the blanket covered lump in the middle of the berth as Ironhide came around behind her. Tucking his far larger frame around her and the little lump in the middle of the berth as he too sat down.

The whole cot sagged probably more then was good at the weight of all three of them, but it held. Ironhide's right arm was holding up his leaning weight on the other side of the lump of hidden Bumblebee while Mia leaned down her weight just to the other side of him.

When the blanket lump that was their mechling didn't so much as twitch the dark shades of blue optics met then Chromia's hand slowly went to shifting through the edges of blankets in the area she figured her little mech's head was as she quietly murmured.

"Bumblebee,"

That one got her a whine, though she wasn't sure it=f that was because of her shifting through his all this blankets in an effort to find him or for some other reason.

Ironhide's larger hand laid behind hers in her search. A low sound echoing out of him.

"I know there's a mechling in here somewhere." He tried to tease, knowing how much a once palm-sized sparkling had loved to burrow away in blankets and 'hide' from his caretakers. There had been many a game of hide and seek with Bee when he never went even further then under a blanket in some bot's lap. A giggling, wiggling, chirping adorable mess that had lead to more than a few late nights of laughter for the ebony mech.

This did not seem to be one of those playful mechling times though.

The simple fact that Bee was no answering the short, curious, worried pulses from both their sparks and his EM field was plastered down so tightly to his frame it wasn't responding at all to the flickers of their own.

Another shared glance between the mated pair and even a glance to the hounds laying on the floor looking up at them before Mia finally found the last mesh layer between her and her mechling. Peeling it away just enough to find the glow of baby blue optics shining dimly back at her.

Her own immediately softened at the distress no amount of trying on the little one's part could hide from the optics of his carrier. Adopted or not.

"Bee," Her voice dripped worry, pulling away blankets for a couple of nanos before suddenly that little ball of yellow was no longer hidden under those blankets, but instead was curled up in a ball in her lap. Clinging tightly, fingers curling into the few sparkling holds in her armor that he could still fit his fingers into. Burrowing his faceplate down into her chest.

Her arms came up around him in little more than a blink. Tightly around him and rubbing at the pinned appendages against his back. A smooth, comforting purr rising up through her chest before any conscious thought went behind it. Pulling his frame—still small enough to be movable by her even if he was starting to catch up in height—up and close. Tucking him up in her arms much like he had been in his blankets.

When Ironhide's strong arms curled around the both of them and shifted them both up into his own lap some of the tension in the little mech went away. Leaking out of his frame and field once no matter what was going on in his processor and his spark. It was instinctual to be calmed in the protective hold of the two that adopted him.

Safe in the strength and protection that was the pair of them. Chromia's thin strong arms and Ironhide's massive cannon welding ones. The plasma filled barrels were humming slightly, warming the energy in their holds to warm the metal that surrounded them. Quickly providing a warm expanse of strong metal that made the little mechling relax a bit more.

Both by the reminded power they wielded and the warmth that was pressed against his back. His pinned winglets and doorwings slumping from their tight hold against his back. Not fully but enough that Hide could work his fingers down to the base joints of the broad doorwings and rub at the tension in them.

Bee's field was harder to hide now that he was burrowed up in the two of them. Though that might have been some of what Mia and Hide were after. The reassuring, warmness that was their familiar and comforting fields meshing against his own in a coax for the truth of his emotions was hard to fight off.

The same could be said for the pulses through the bonds that linked them. The two of them calling softly for him to open up and let them in. Something he rarely had an interests in denying.

This time though . . . .

The truth of all this was something different.

He didn't know what to do.

He didn't know what to say.

He didn't _want_ to tell them.

He was afraid to.

"What is it, little one?" Mia purred softly against his antennas. Hands rubbing in time with Hide's against his plating.

He was seeing ghosts.

That was what was wrong, but how the frag was he suppose to say that?

His spark clenched.

Fear licking up his backstrut and settling into the bottom of his tanks like a ball of lead. He swallowed hard, hiding away in Mia's armor as if somehow that would be enough to make it all go away.

Some part of his spark said tell. Said that he should not be afraid of Mia or Hide. That of all bots in this fragged up world they were the two that would never look at him like something was the matter with him.

But . . . that wasn't true . . . .

There was.

There _was_ something the matter with him.

Deep down in the darkest places inside of him, the places he tired to ignore, he knew that. He knew it all too well.

He wasn't normal.

He wasn't _. . . right_.

Something was the matter with him. He was different, from all of them but he didn't know why.

He didn't _want_ to be, but he was.

It hadn't taken him long to realize that once it did finally make itself noticeable. He wasn't like all the rest of them. No matter how hard he tried he just _wasn't_.

Admitting that out loud though, to more than just his own spark. It sent a cold chill through his chest and left him gripping harder at Mia's armor as if pressing his faceplate hard to the armor between him and her safe spark was enough to make it all go away.

It wasn't.

He knew that deep down.

Maybe that was why for the first time in his life, Bee lied to her and Hide.

With a soft whimper he said he missed them all. All those that were gone.

Blurr, Kup, and so many others.

Which partly was true, it wasn't a _complete_ lie. Maybe that was why it turned out to be believable.

Why Mia and Hide didn't press that truth any further. Even if Scout and Echo huffed unhappily at him from the floor. For now they could be ignored, they weren't being much help in any of it anyway.

And so that was the problem with him, the lied cause of his hiding that seemed to be more than enough to convince Ironhide and Chromia. They tucked him up close in the dimness of the berth room and held on tightly.

Keeping him safe in every way they could possibly.

And Bee buried it.

The real reason he was afraid, the truth that he had been hiding in more ways than one for a long time, got shoved down. Tucked deep down in the bottom of his spark to hide and worry about later.

It didn't fix anything, but nothing probably would.

So he hide it.

He lied.

And his spark shivered in his chest with it.

* * *

Dropping Roddy at the sudden voice hadn't really been in Magnus' plan, but considering Hot Rod just about leapt down it wasn't totally his fault. However, the startled yelp and spin was more than enough to get his grip to slip. Then the massive white, blue, and red mech was twisting around to find Optimus and Elita standing there in the doorway staring at them.

Optics wide and jaws more the slightly dropped open.

For a moment there was silence. Strut chilling silence and then Magnus noticed Roddy was shaking. Pressed tightly against the side of Ultra Magnus' leg. Optics blown wide, faceplate flushed blue, as he stared up into his big brother's wide optics.

Magnus' hand curled around Roddy's back half in an effort to keep him from bolting and half to keep him from possibly falling down onto his face. Which he kind of looked like he might do with how hard he was shaking.

Suddenly Optimus' jaw worked, but no words came out. For a long several klicks that was all there was, but then those bright optics that matched the same shade of Hot Rod's narrowed into thin slits and a deep growl thundered through his chest.

It hardly took a flick through his processor before Magnus had Roddy pushed fully behind him and met Optimus growl with one of his own as the Prime stalked forward.

"Magnus," He snarled, stalking across the room in a quick motion that if he was any bot other then Optimus a frame that large shouldn't have been able to do. But he was Optimus, and he was no normal mech. Squaring his shoulders with a snarl of his own Magnus glared until they were squared up in the center of the tiny berthroom. Hardly further then noseplate to noseplate. Two pairs of snarling engines and narrowed optics, but before either of them could so much as twitch a move more toward the other Elita was between them.

Shoving in between and shoving them back. One hand plastered to each their middles and pushing as hard as she could to wedge her smaller frame between them. A growl of her own in her chest as she snarled between them.

"Stop it!" She hissed.

But Optimus wasn't much listening to her. Glaring back at Magnus' own dark glare as they glared at each other.

"Back off, Optimus." Magnus warned. One hand still shoved behind him wrapped tightly around Hot Rod's side.

Maybe he should have backed down now. Maybe he should bow his head and give a better explanation then just a snarl, but Roddy's scared shaking was making that hard to do. He wasn't sure just what it was that had Roddy shaking, but he was pretty sure he had a good enough idea.

It was the reason for the anger in Optimus' optics now.

Magnus wasn't a fool.

He knew what the sudden flare of anger was caused by.

But it was reason enough to have the anger rising in him as well. For his friend's audacity to even so much as _think_ that in his direction.

"What the frag do you think you're doing!?"

Magnus growled. "Listen Optimus—"

"No you listen! Just what—slaggin'—how dare—he's—just like Gra—" Optimus wasn't making much sense at this point. There was too much shocked anger flaring through his chest to pay much attention to the words falling out of his mouth.

But it didn't take much to know what the cut off name that came out of his mouth was and it was more than enough to have Roddy flinching so hard in his shaking that he nearly came out of Magnus' hold.

The feeling in both touch and the feeling through that field still meshed with his was enough to tear a roar through his engine with the heat of anger that flashed through him.

"You watch your tongue, _Prime_!" Magnus spit.

"Stop it!" Elita snarled again, but this time the hard shove she gave was enough to rock them both back several steps. The dark glare in her own optics knocking them both out of their fogged anger. " _Both_ of you knock it the slag off!"

The pair of them paused.

Optics darting down to the remarkably tall but still small to them femme as she glared at the pair of them.

"Stop it! Look at what you are doing!" Though this time her optics were cut to Optimus alone and the hand she had had pressed to Magnus' middle was now flung back in a motion to the red mech shivering and clinging behind Magnus.

Optimus stopped.

A deep breath rattling through his chest as those bright blue optics drifted back to the wide shade staring back at him.

He stilled.

Spark stilling as well when he let the anger roll out of his massive shoulders. Frame sagging as he shifted just enough to look around Magnus to look down at his little brother.

"Roddy," He sighed.

"I—I—I." He whispered, hands wrapping tightly around the hand Magnus had motioned back to him griped hard enough that the plating of those long white fingers creaked. It had to hurt, but Magnus didn't seem to even feel it. He just wrapped his fingers tightly back around the shivering ones.

Suddenly Optimus felt like utter slag.

"Easy Roddy," Magnus rumbled back at him. Turning his gaze from Optimus and Elita in favor of looking back at the shivering mech.

Optimus took a step back at it, half because of it and half because Elita was still pressing hard against his belly.

Some of the shivering stopped then. Though his grip didn't listen. Instead he leaned harder into Magnus' space glancing up into his optics before he glanced back at Optimus. Seeming both embarrassed, afraid, and a little hurt.

It was then that Optimus realized the name that had almost slipped through his lips and the implications of his anger. His spark chilled in its chamber.

Head lowered and frame sagging he softly said. "I'm sorry, Roddy. I didn't mean—"

"Don't ever call him Grayscale." The quiet hiss was enough to make the mighty Prime flinch. His optics dimming at the waver in the shorter mech's voice.

"Roddy—"

"Don't." He spit back at him. "He is _not_ Grayscale and despite how much you think I am, I'm not a _complete_ idiot. I'm not the desperate, stupid, mechling that fell for that con anymore. I'm not _stupid,_ Optimus."

"I know you're not stupid, Roddy." Optimus hurried. "I don't think you are, I—"

"And I don't need your freaked out over protective snarling. I can take care of myself. But fraggin' _Primus_ its slaggin' Magnus for crying out loud. It's _not_ like he's gonna slaggin' _hurt_ me."

Magnus' hand curled tighter around Roddy's.

"I know that, that was—" And then he sighed, gaze lowering before he quietly sighed. "I'm sorry. Both of you, I'm sorry."

Magnus let out his own sigh at that. Letting the anger fall out of his own shoulders as he quietly pulled Roddy around from behind him. Arm wrapping around his smaller frame and tucking him close as he let his gaze rest fondly on those bright optics that tilted up to meet him. The slow, warm smile on his lips had Magnus smiling back at him.

Then, Elita was speaking quietly in more of a purr than anything else. Drawing their optics back to her as she smiled at them.

"Well, I can't say I didn't see it coming." She smiled fondly at them.

Now it was Roddy's turn to drop his jaw as Magnus snorted a laugh.

"Was I that obvious?" He asked her with a tilt of a grin.

She nodded solemnly at him. "Yes. You both were."

"What?" Roddy squeaked, hands coming up to rapidly fumble around before him. "I was not!"

"Oh please." Elita giggled at them. "Mechs are so fraggin' oblivious, I'll give you that much, but I'm not mech."

"But . . . ." Roddy blinked at her for a moment before he huffed with a slow smile. "You knew. You knew all this time and you didn't say anything?"

"No bot could do this for either of you other then yourselves." She looked back at him with almost pride in her optics before she went on. "Are you happy, Roddy?"

An almost goofy smile curled up his lips and he ducked his head. Leaning harder into Magnus' hold as he nodded.

Even Optimus had to smile at that as Elita just about gushed as him.

"Magnus?" She went on.

"You know the answer to that already, Elita." He smiled back at her.

"Well then." She nodded firmly. "I think that's just all there is to any of it. Right, Optimus?"

"So I might have over reacted a little bit. I'm sorry. I had no right to. I had no cause to I was just—"

"I understand, Optimus." Magnus told him back softly. "I really do. Don't you think there's a reason I have been hiding it all these vorns? Even from myself. I didn't want to hurt him, Optimus."

"Hey!" Roddy snapped up at him with fake and somewhat real annoyance. "I'm a grown mech. I'm not a youngling anymore that you all need to walk around the feelings of and make sure I don't do something stupid to hurt myself. I can make intelligent decisions. Most of the time. Some of the time."

He paused.

"Okay _this_ is different! You're not Grayscale, that was . . . that was . . . ."

"Wrong for me to bring up ever again." Optimus said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

Roddy's gaze lowered a little. "It's okay. I was stupid, we all know it."

"No, Roddy." A level of conviction filled the Prime's tone. That leader voice he very rarely used with his little brother coming out and drawing the smaller mech's gaze up. "You were not stupid, Roddy. You were used. That is not the same thing, and I will forever be so terribly sorry I allowed it to happen."

Red shoulder's tipped with yellow flares at his shoulder blades shrugged as he gave his older brother a half smile. "It's not your fault, Opt. It just happened. It's a long time ago now. And honestly I kinda just want to forget it."

"I know." Optimus nodded slowly. "That is why I am sorry even more now. To you and Magnus. I should not have let that thought—"

"He's your little brother, Optimus." Magnus cut him off with a smile that only Optimus and him shared. That old fond look from the orns back in the Enforcers. "I'd be pissed at you if you didn't get pissed off to find your best friend kissing him."

The Prime tensed a little at that making Roddy about keel over in a half laugh half embarrassed blush as he smacked at Magnus' hip. The big blue mech simply grinned at the pair of them as Elita fell back into Optimus front, arms wrapped around herself, giggling.

Optimus pinched the bridge of his noseplate. "Can we, uh, please _not_ talk about that? Gah, it's like thinking about Bumblebee kissing somebot."

Roddy's laughter sobered up, Magnus did a bit too, at that though Elita's only got worse.

"Oh slag no." The red commander went to waving his hands around again. Making violent slashing motions as he hissed. "No. No. No. That's _awful_! Why would you even say that!? He's so—so—so— _little_! He's just a sparkling! Gah! No!"

"He's going to grow up eventually." Elita's found tone had a hint of future warning in it as she looked hard at the three mechs. They all shuddered at the notion.

"No he's not." Roddy huffed. "He's gonna stay a tiny little mechling forever. You'll see."

Elita lifted an optic ridge at him.

Magnus huffed. "Let's all save ourselves some trouble and not remind Ironhide of that prospect."

"Agreed." Optimus nodded stiffly, as he let his gaze rake over the pair again before he slowly asked. "Well . . . does either of you want to explain this a little bit more to me?"

The two bots shared a glance with each other.

"You sure you want us to talk about it?" Roddy asked carefully. "We, uh, haven't really had all that much chance to _talk_ about it ourselves."

"I'm wondering how I never noticed what apparently so painfully obvious." Optimus sighed.

Elita snorted at him. "You're a mech, dear, there is really no other explanation needed."

Optimus elbowed her in the ribs—lightly mind you, but he still did it.

Elita slammed the tip of her heel so hard down into his toe the massive mech yelped like a sparkling and went to suddenly bouncing around the room on one foot holding the other.

This time Roddy really did fall over laughing as Magnus threw his head back in a deep roaring pitch of his own and Elita stood there with her arms crossed in a huff with an expression that screamed how much the glitch deserved that.

* * *

Perched on a rock ledge staring up at the cloud covered sky above them the tall, curved, sleek purple, blue, and green form of Evermore sat staring out as the expanse before her. Impulse was not far from her.

His massive, jagged, grey frame leaned back against a crumbling edge as he stood gazing out beside her. His claws wrapped tightly around the hilt of the battleaxe he was swinging around in a lazy, humming arch.

The tip of the razor edge double head grazed the rock he stood on with each swing sending a spray of sparks with each pass. It was making an awful grinding noise with how fast that lazy swing was spinning around.

It probably should have been annoying, but Evermore was more then use to Impulse's methods of keeping himself sane.

Watchers they may be, but that didn't mean they were all content with it.

To be perfectly honest, Ever was actually the only one of them that had liked to sit back and watch at all.

Trickster was too flighty and impatient. Looking for his next amusement or chance for trouble in every shadow and crevice. Wanting to get on and get to something. His nature demanding he be in the middle of the action where-ever it was. Up to something all the time.

Impulse just wanted something to do. It didn't have to be much or important, but the mech always needed motion. It was his nature as well. Not as wild and willing as Trickster's but he was motion all the same.

Order and chaos.

Different, but the same.

Never still.

Always in motion.

She didn't blame them and she was more then use to it by now. It got worse when they weren't together, though she knew better then to point that out to them. It made them both prickly and far too annoying.

Rolling her bright green optics she went on gazing up at the storms brewing overhead. They'd figured it out somewhere down the line. Give or take a few million vorns, but they'd figured it out all the same.

Right now they had bigger things to worry about. _Much_ bigger things.

In a flash of blue light a heavy black mass of armor thudded down beside her. Not so much as bothering to catch himself before he was sprawled out there on the rock beside her. Flat on his back with limbs thrown all over the place repeatedly banging the back of his tall audio pointed head into the stone under him.

Evermore did little more than twist just enough to look down at the spectacle Trickster was making out of himself this time. Simply lifting a blue optic ridge down at him.

Impulse however was much more affected. This time he even did a slag job of hiding it. The larger grey mech over to the black one's side in an instant. Battleaxe strapped to his back again as he knelt down beside the lump of black armor that was Trickster. Forcibly making him stop banging his head and pulling him upright.

It got him a hiss and a growl, but Trickster didn't bother to fight him as the other sat himself down, keeping a firm arm wrapped around the other's thin shoulders.

"What is the matter with you now?" Impulse huffed at him in fake annoyance, but he was still checking over Trickster's frame looking for something to be wrong.

Trickster shrugged, letting himself be check over as he look out over the growing storm with Evermore.

"Nothing." He sighed. "At least nothing we can do anything about."

"Who the slag punched you?" Impulse suddenly bit. Getting a grip of Trickster's chin and suddenly pulling him around to face him.

That got Ever's attention.

Pulling her gaze form the sky to turn and see her black painted sort of sibling trying to get Impulse to let him go.

"I'm fine, Pulse." Trickster chuckled, finally giving up under the bigger mech superior strength and let him press carefully around the healing break.

"It's broken." He growled.

"It won't be for long." Trickster shrugged.

"Who hit you?" He snapped again.

"What did you do, is the better question?" Evermore lifted an optic ridge at him again and Trickster grinned sideways out her.

"I was just trying to introduce myself to Chromia and Elita. We hadn't _actually_ met before."

Evermore rolled her optics and Impulse slugged him in the shoulder. Though there was no real heat behind it and he was still looking him over.

"Glitch. What did you do?"

"I said hi." Trickster shrugged. "And she punched me. It was all rather extreme if you ask me. I don't think I deserved it."

"She is afraid for her youngling around you." Evermore shrugged. "And you were probably being a glitch. So you probably deserved it."

Trickster glared down at her as if greatly offended for a moment before he barked a laugh and shrugged again. Leaning hard into Impulse's side grateful this time that the larger didn't shove him away.

"Yeah, I probably did." He chuckled. "But they needed the hint."

"So you gave it to them?" Ever questioned.

"Yep."

"Are you sure you should have done that? We're not even sure if it is time for that yet."

"Oh it's time." Trickster nodded, though there was less bounce in his voice and his expression now. Now it was darkening and he leaned a little harder against Impulse.

"Did he talk to you and you not tell us?" Impulse rumbled down at him, voice vibrating through Trickster's whole frame.

"Yes."

"What?!" Ever snapped. "Why the slag didn't you say anything!?"

"You were right." Was all Trickster said at first. Ice blue optics slowly drifting over to his might as well be sister.

She paused.

"Right about what, Trick?"

He just smiled sadly, then gave a low hum of a note and sang a few long haunted words. "There are two. That darkness will rue."

Evermore and Impulse went completely still.

Optics widening as they both slowly twisted to stare hard at him. Trickster just stared back.

"No." Impulse suddenly growled. "No. No, that's not possible."

"Apparently it is." Trickster sighed. "We were fraggin' fools to think otherwise. There are always two, Impulse. You know that. There are _always_ two."

"How do you know now!?" Evermore hissed at him.

"Prui was in my dreams last night." Trickster said softly. "He told me to give them the old words. So that was the hint I gave them. Not the coordinates. They already have those, Ever."

"You gave them _the_ lyrics?" She blinked those never ended green optics at him. " _The_ lyrics. To the old words."

"Yes." He nodded. "Our Master told me too. We were made to do as we were told, Ever."

"But . . . they won't even be able to _read_ it. That language is older than Primal Vernacular. It's the language of the Knights. They _can't_ read it let alone would they understand it." Impulse huffed.

"They don't have too." Trickster shrugged. "Dust and War can, besides, they know the prophecy. They were there when it was written. Besides, we all know who it is really there for. And he _will_ be able to read it."

"But . . . what does that mean?" Evermore whispered. "Two . . . there is only one, Trickster. There is only him. Deathtoll is still alive. There can't be another."

"That's what I thought." Trickster sighed. "Apparently we were wrong."

" _Wrong_!?" Impulse snarled. "We weren't _wrong,_ they just never bothered to tell us! How could they not tell us!?"

Suddenly the massive mech was shoving himself to his feet. Pacing in tight angry circles as his engine snarled along with his vocal processor.

"What the _frag_!? What—where—how—"

"Now," Trickster cut off. "We go and find the missing piece."

Impulse stiffened up and Evermore straightened.

"Prui said to go find him?" She breathed. "It is a him, isn't it?"

"Yes." Trickster nodded. "To both."

"He told you where he was?" Impulse growled. "He didn't tell us where the little runt was! We spent _vorns_ looking for him! Why tell us this one!? What the frag is going on!?"

"Things are happening, Impulse. You know what comes next."

They all went quiet at that. Hurt and guilt and anger swirling in their spark before they shook it off.

"Yes." Impulse grumbled. "I know. We all know. I don't like it, but I understand it has to happen. My point is why are we just finding this out now?"

"We should have always known." Trickster shrugged. "In a way I think I did. We know it is about him. We've always know there would have to be two and it wasn't our fallen brother that was the other side of it anymore. And the others have already failed. It would have to be a new set. We should have guessed we were missing something."

They had to agree with that.

They should have, they _really_ should have known. They were fools to think otherwise. That one would be enough. It would never be enough, but with Shootingstar still alive in Bumblebee's spark. Well they had just assumed . . . .

Wrong.

They had assumed wrong.

"What now?" Evermore asked. "We still can't interfere. No more than we dance the lines as is."

"We're not." Trickster smiled down at her. "That's why I put a little extra hint in there. They won't be able to read it, but Dust and War will. They will understand. Once I give them a few hints more along the way. For now, we're just going to go check. I want to see it for myself. You two wanna come?"

"You think you're going without me?" Impulse snorted. "Yeah slaggin' right."

Evermore nodded. "You know I'm in."

With a flash of Trickster's twisted smile they were gone once again.

* * *

 **Well now, that was interesting. Its only taken me almost four years and four parts to get to this turning point, but here we are! *dances* It's all adding together (though there is a still a whole lot to go through before it does completely) but I actually got to write some of it! (even if it was just two sentences)**

 **Can't wait to see what you all think of this one! Hints galore to be found.**

 **Thank you all once again for all the wonderful reviews. I adore you all and I'm so happy you are enjoying the story. ^-^**

 **See you next time!**

 **-Jaycee**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **Thank you all so much for the reviews. I'm so happy you're enjoying part four.**

 **Have another chapter. I adore you all. ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 7

Two decacycles.

Two whole decacycles and not a peep. Not from the Decepticons and not from the Guild. No matter that the Cons had knocked them so hard out of the sky they should have been back around to at least try to finish them all off. Megatron had never been a gifted reprieve kind of mech.

Yet he and his army were nowhere to be seen.

The _Nemesis_ was just . . . gone.

And then there was Trickster and his fraggin' siblings. Or whatever it was they were to each other. They too had just _vanished_. The big ebony colored mech left that datapad and never came back.

Normally, the Autobots would find that being the only thing the Guild wanted was to drop off something and leave wasn't such a horrible thing, but considering the thing Trickster left was driving Jazz just this side of crazy it would have been alright with all of them if he just hadn't shown up.

However, what they would be alright with along with what all of them wanted they had long ago stopped figuring was going to be what they got. It was what put the high command around one table tonight various shades of blue contemplating and apprehensive. No bot was sure if this was a good idea, quite a were more than a little vocal about it being—as Ironhide put it—damn stupid, but it was now looking to be the only option they had.

"I can't read it." Jazz repeated for what had to be the sixtieth time in the last two decacycles. "I've cross referenced every slaggin' thing I can think of. I'm talking I went back to data files I haven't pulled since I was a sparklin'. I've tried everything, but I can't fraggin' read it."

"And that is exactly why this should _not_ be considered." Prowl firmly stated, doorwings high behind his back with tension he couldn't hide.

"We know where you stand, Prowl." Optimus sighed back at him. "You've been out voted."

"Out voted my aft." Ironhide growled over at his Prime. "You've decided already what's to be done and you don't give a damn about listenin' no more."

Optimus just looked hard back at him.

"Technically speaking," Roddy piped up from where he was sitting next to Magnus—a place he hadn't got much more than a few feet from in the span of two decacycles, the femmes thought he was fraggin' adorable—leaned forward in his seat staring down at star charts and desert maps. Everything he could come up with and had scrounged up. "That is within his rights."

"Oh hush up." Ironhide snapped at him, but Mia smacked him hard over the audio and sent a harsh pulse over the bond telling him in no uncertain terms that _he_ was the one that needed to hush up.

"What?" Hot Rod glanced up to the snort with a hard glare. "I think he's right! I've only been trying to convince you bots of this for two _vorns_! There is _something_ out there."

"And when you were out there looking for it you actually got blown up." Ironhide shot back at him only to regret it when the smaller mech flinched at the words. Gaze lowering to stare hard at the maps and charts before him. Ultra Magnus' hand has reached under the table to rest on the smaller mech's knee. Roddy sent him a thankful flash though his energy field.

This thing between them was still new, and tentative, and growing but at the same time it was a connection that had been there for a very long time. They knew each other better than the other often knew themselves. The only difference was . . . well . . . all the kissing and touching now.

Hot Rod couldn't say there was any negative side to that though, and considering how much Magnus seemed to like kissing and holding him the big mech was inclined to agree.

"Enough, Ironhide." Optimus rumbled over at him. Bright optics narrowing slightly until he was gifted a nod and he turned his attention back to his little brother's charts. "Bad idea aside we're going to have to do something."

"Are we even sure what's on that datapad has anything to do with what Jazz intercepted?" Magnus questioned.

At that the silver spy shook his head. "Not completely, but it came from Trickster. He called it a hint. If it doesn't have something to do with it I'll paint myself pink."

"Can I hold you to that bet?" Ratchet lifted an optic ridge from the other side of the table. Mia, Quickfire, and Arcee tried very hard to cover their laugh. Mirage just huffed.

"If my opinion matters I think it's a good idea to assume it's a needed action, but it will also probably be something we will all hate by the end of." The blue and white mech said carefully. These types of meeting were not new to him, but for the most part of his military career he'd been on the debriefing side of them. The plan of action had normally been made before the job came to his attention.

His new position as Magnus' and Roddy's spy master changed that though. He was still getting use to the new position and all that came along with it, but Jazz claimed he was fully confident in what Mirage was capable of. Besides, how could he have said no to the technical transfer when Magnus and Hot Rod promoted First Aid and Quickfire both to co-chiefs of their medical bay.

If they ever got different ships again.

Mirage had figured that Magnus would give Jolt the position, but from his own diggings he found out Jolt didn't _want_ the job and the towering commander was not going to force it upon his son. Even if Jolt was as every bit capable of running a bay as Aid and Fire were.

"He's probably right." First Aid muttered, optics dim behind his visor.

"I don't like the idea of splitting up." Quickfire put in. "Not after everything. It's too soon."

"Taking everybot would be even worse of a risk." Sideswipe spoke up from his place beside his brother next to Arcee and Ratchet. "A strike team would have less chance of being seen and finding whatever it is we're looking for."

"A strike team would also stand a better chance of not dying." Sunstreaker huffed.

"That too." The red twin nodded.

"I'd have to say I agree with them." Ratchet nodded.

Arcee hummed. "I'd feel better about it if we actually _knew_ what we were looking for. All you have are vague coordinates to some strange object that kind of makes you think might be the All Spark."

"I didn't say it was a good plan." Jazz sighed. "It's just the only one I've got."

"For now it's all we've got." Elita sighed. "Worse comes to worse if you don't find anything quickly we will come and get you. Megatron is bound to turn up sooner or later."

"After he gets done licking his pride." Chromia sneered.

"True." Arcee nodded.

"So its decided then." Optimus leaned forward in his chair. Long arms holding him up against the table as he gazed around a the combination of both his dearest friends, closest family, and most loyal partners in arms. "I will take Hide, Jazz, the twins, and Ratchet to those coordinates and we will see what we can find."

A lot of nodding and murmurs of agreement went up around the table until Sunstreaker spoke up.

"I just have one thing left to ask." The golden warrior turned those dark optics around his adopted creators to meet the brighter gaze of the Prime.

With a nod and a motion Optimus bid him to go on. "Yes?"

"Who's gonna tell Half Pint we're leaving him here?"

Silence echoed around the room then as they all seemed to take that question in. It wasn't as if they hadn't known it. They had, the option of leaving Bee on the ship with the others had been discussed early on, but the notion of who it was that was actually going to have to _tell_ him had sort of been skipped over.

Sideswipe suddenly surged forward in his seat throwing an arm up above his head. "Not it!"

Sunstreaker nodded. "Seconded."

Optimus fought very hard not the slap his palm against his forehead.

* * *

Cross legged on the edge of one of Wheeljack's less cluttered work tables Bumblebee sat quietly watching the inventor work. It had always been a rather humors past time. No matter that half the time he couldn't make sense of half the stuff that came out of the tri colored mech's mouth and that it almost always ended in Jacky latched hold of him and diving for cover behind something or another when something always seemed to blow up. As things were known to do around Wheeljack.

None of that had ever bothered Bee though. If anything it made it all the more fun. Wheeljack was one of his only caretakers that had ever seemed quite so . . . strict?

Maybe that wasn't the word.

Honestly, Bee didn't how to describe it. Jacky was as loving and caring and careful—well as careful as a walking explosion magnet could be—as the rest of his family, but in that same notion he wasn't afraid to let Bee do what he wanted. He'd give the mechling tasks the others balked at finding out about afterward.

And yeah, most of those things Jacky said 'sure go ahead' to normally ended up in rather loud booms but up until that point it was kind of the only time Bee felt like not everybot around him was just waiting for him to screw up.

Deep down he knew they didn't mean it like that. He knew they were just protective and that they were scared of the trouble he seemed to attract, but that didn't make it all any easier. It didn't change anything. He still felt like every orn he was out to prove himself again. Maybe not always with the field tests—that had been shoved onto the back burner for obvious reasons—but in everything else.

Sitting there on the end of one of Jacky's tables he chewed absently at his bottom lip. Winglets and doorwings in a slight droop of the slightly twitching with the thoughts that were haunting him. The shadowing thoughts hanging around in the forefront of his mind.

They wouldn't let him recharge.

They wouldn't let him think.

All he had was this shifting, see through image of what he had seen. Cyber, Risk, and whatever that other thing had been. Not to mention Scout and Echo's words.

Spirit Seer.

Whatever the pit that meant.

They thought it was all perfectly _fine_!

Fine.

Fine that he was seeing dead things. And talking to dead things. And other slag he couldn't understand.

The lying about it to Hide and Mia however, they didn't go along with.

Nope.

They were kind of pissed about that one. Still. Which was why they were curled up together under the table he was sitting at ignoring his emotions and his ever present questions. There wasn't many answers they had for him. All his freaking out was bizarre to them because to them it was apparently normal.

Bee still didn't know what to make of that.

However, it was one of his reason for the current table he was sitting on. There were some things that he could talk about with Hide and Mia, Optimus and 'Lita, Prowl, and Ratchet and Cee, then there were things that he could not. Just as there were only things he went to Jazz and the twins with, and then things that he could not. Then there were the other things. The things he could talk about with other members of the family.

Under it all though were his secrets. The things he locked up inside of him. Locked up and put away because talking about them to any of his family was a horrible idea. He was pretty sure this whole seeing dead things problem was one of those things. Right up there along with how much he could _really_ see and feel with his spark. Mainly because over the last few orns he'd started wondering if maybe that had something to do with it.

Scout and Echo had rolled their dark optics at him when he said that to them.

He notched it up there on his lists and pinned it there.

That didn't mean he had a clue what to do about it though. Normally, he'd push it down there with the rest of the stuff he didn't say because it was better that way. Only this time it wasn't working. Which was why he found himself were he currently found himself.

Maybe Wheeljack wasn't the most _sane_ member of his family, but he was one of the most understanding and the most laid back around here. If there was anybot that he might be able to try and talk about this with it was Jacky.

Maybe.

If he could get him to focus for more than three seconds on anything other than that stupid datapad.

He'd been going on about it for orns. All these scattered alphabets and text all over his tables. Charts, and maps, and all these symbols that Bee had no idea what meant. It hadn't taken him long to figure out it was all different types of writing. Different alphabets, at least most of it. Some of it he could recognize. Their own language and some older things of the tribal languages he'd seen among Outrider's and Ironhide's tattoos and Jazz's scribbling. Most of the rest of it was all star charts. There was a way to read those, an actual language all in itself, but Bee didn't know how to read those.

He knew some of it, the things Roddy had showed him, but not enough to fully understand how it was actually read in whole. So he didn't get how to cross references it, but he did like watching. He figured sooner or later he'd get it this way.

Wheeljack wasn't letting him see what was on the datapad though so he didn't know what it looked like. He just knew it was driving the inventor even nuttier then he already was. That was the only thing besides fear that had Bee keeping his mouth shut. He'd come down here this morning to see if he could wrangle up the courage to tell Wheeljack what was going on. When he found the inventor this worked up though he figured starting to talk about seeing ghosts was probably a bad thing.

So here he sat, chewing nervously at the inside of his bottom lip trying to ignore the steady pulses of annoyance coming from his hounds as he watched Wheeljack. His spark was still uneasy something he hadn't been able to hide from Scout and Echo, but fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—his family was not so perceptive.

Jacky didn't have a clue in the world something was wrong with him or that he was hiding something. Then again, he could have walked in gushing energon and at this moment Wheeljack probably wouldn't have been the wiser. So maybe he wasn't the best judge at the moment.

Bee wasn't sure if he was glad or upset about that fact.

He wasn't making much effort to change the facts though. Just sitting there, watching Wheeljack mutter and gripe to himself. The tri colored mech knew he and his hounds were here but other than a short greeting when Bee came bearing breakfast that was about it. Jacky knew Bee would entertain himself of he would leave.

He didn't know Bee was staying because, one he hadn't been allowed in the meeting this morning, and two he was trying to muster up enough courage to talk.

Finally, with a deep breath Bee cast those impossibly blue optics over to the tri colored mech and spoke up. "Hey, uh, Jacky?"

At first there was no reaction. The inventor was too busy scribbling over sheets of paper and staring at the datapad. Only when Scout gave a loud bark at his alpha being ignored did Wheeljack twitch and glance up.

Bumblebee could see the moment in which that brilliantly cluttered mind remembered that he was there as a smile curled up that frustrated faceplate. "Bee, hey mechling. What's the matter?"

Bee opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

His doorwings tensed behind him and it took every ounce of what little control over the appendages he had to keep them from pinning down behind him. The winglets were less responsive and plastered to his back, but luckily they were easier to hide from the place he was sitting.

Wheeljack's busy mind didn't seem to catch the flash of frantic emotions roll through him. The clenching of his spark as the great since of _wrong_ swept in from somewhere deep inside him and turned his tongue to lead.

 _"No."_

He almost fell off the table in shock at the inner voice. Just managing to catch himself before the outward reaction to the emotion could happen. He managed it just in time, shoving it down. Ignoring once again the curious flicker from Scout and Echo. Their black frames peaking out from under the table to get a look at him.

He refused to look down at them. Instead let half his focus on trying to figure out what the slag just happened and the other in coming up with something to supply Wheeljack with. The brightest in his optics was starting to focus fully on the youngling the longer he was quiet and if he did that he might notice.

Bee leapt on the first idea that came to his processor.

"What are you translating?"

"Oh." Wheeljack turned back to look at the stuff he had scattered all over the table and Jacky might not be the best at reading what others were trying to hide, but Bee was. His optics narrowed even if half his processor was trying to figure out the voice. Then Jacky went on. "It's, umm, nothing. Just something Jazz was trying to figure out. Nothing important or anything like that. Nothing for you to be worried about."

And that, right there, is why Wheeljack would never be in the intelligence department.

Optic ridges lifting high on his forehead Bee tilted his head at the inventor who was now trying to busy himself with shifting around charts and such as he scrambled to come up with something to say.

Bee narrowed his optics a bit more. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the meeting I can't go to would it?"

An airy laugh and Bee knew all he needed to know. Even as the mech denied it. "No, no. I mean, at least I don't think so. I'm mean I'm not there obviously so, umm, well . . . ."

Bee gave a huff. Doorwings and winglets twitching behind him. His response was interrupted thought when his comm rang. Ironhide's deep internal voice rolling through his processor as he accepted the frequency.

 **"Bumblebee,"**

 **"Hey, Hide."** He answered. **"Meeting I can't go to over?"**

And maybe there was a little bit of a bite in that, now that he knew for sure something was being hidden from him. Again.

Ironhide normally would have chuckled despite that that might be the truth. Amused by Bee's instance of Hide not doing what instinctively came to him the moment he accepted the foundling as his own sparkling and into his spark.

Only this time there was no amusement to dismiss his righteous temper. Only a long pause before Hide's tone went down a notch as he answered.

 **"Yes, Bee, we're done. We're are you? I thought you had sniper practice with Blue this joor."**

 **"Blue's doing something for Prowl so I took Wheeljack breakfast. Hadn't seen him out and about so I figured it was time to make sure somebot was feeding him. I'm down here with him."**

There, let's see how that went over. He was down here with the very thing he was apparently supposed to not know about yet.

Another pause.

Then a low rumble.

Yep. He was right.

 **"With Jack. You're with Jack."** Bee could almost feel Ironhide oil pressure rising. **"What is he doing?"**

 **"Something he won't tell me."** He shot back, not wanting Hide to take out whatever this was on Wheeljack. He was the one that came down here and it obviously wasn't his choice not to tell Bee what was going on. **"Does this mean I can know what's going on now?"**

Ironhide sighed. **"Come on up to the office, Bee."**

 **"See ya in a klick."** He chirped happily.

Maybe this time he'd actually get somewhere. Maybe this time they'd actually tell him something!

Hopping off the table he latched onto Wheeljack with a hug, startling the mech slightly before he was hugged in return and then gave him a later before he headed up stairs with Scout and Echo padding along behind him as they always were.

 _"What that about?"_ Echo asked as they headed for the stairwell.

 _"We're gonna go find out what's going on with the others. What they don't want to tell me this time."_ Bee answered, pushing open the heavy door and letting them go in before him then letting it shut. Taking the steps two at a time as they bounded along on each side of him.

 _"Not that."_ Scout shook his head hard as they rounded a railing and headed up another flight. _"Other."_

 _"Other?"_ Bee echoed.

 _"Yeah."_ The mechling could _hear_ Scout's optic roll. _"The thing that upset you. Almost like heard something."_

Bee froze at the doorway they had reached. Whole frame locking up at the thoughts caught up with him and he recalled what he'd momentarily let himself get distracted from.

 _Oh yeah._ He thought to himself. _That._

 _"I don't know."_ He admitted. _"I thought I heard something, but then again it couldn't have been."_

 _"What was?"_

 _"A voice. It told me no. I felt like I've heard it somewhere before though."_

 _"Heard before?"_ Echo tilted her head, staring up at him from her not so much smaller height. Long audios nearly topping his shoulder as those bottomless black optics stared up at him. He could only shrug in return to her though.

He didn't know.

Something was nagging now that he thought about. Something he should be able to place, but he wasn't sure.

Then it hit him.

"Star." His optics widened as it klick. That had been _Star's_ voice, but . . . normally . . . . Well, no. No he couldn't say normally he only heard Star in his recharge anymore could he?

It was almost like the voice in his mind was getting braver, or louder, but . . . how . . . how did it _literally_ make him stop?

A shiver ran though him. His arms rising to circle around himself before he even realized he was doing. Fear tightening around his spark as the thoughts sank in.

What the _frag_ was happening to him!?

A low whine worked its way up through both Echo and Scout. The sound shared between them as they both leaned forward to press their head and muzzles into him. Rubbing and nuzzling. Licking at his clenched fingers to try and calm him.

He knew they were trying, and he loved them dearly for it, but at that moment they weren't much help.

* * *

"He's not gonna like this." Jazz muttered softly, optics dim behind his visor, circling the few left in the room. "You know that."

"Of course I know that." Ironhide snapped, but did not stop in his pacing. "Would you rather take him out there in the desert, _again_ , to who the frag knows what!? His plating is barley thick enough to be called armor! He's a _youngling_ I'm not draggin' him out into slag I don't have to."

Ironhide's spark clenched painfully in his chest. _I will not watch him die._

He didn't have to be in this. He could stay here on the ship. Safe with Mia, and Prowl, and Roddy, and Magnus and all the rest of them. He would be safe here, not wondering around the desert with them looking for what none of them even knew what was.

Chromia agreed with him and in the end it was their decision what Bumblebee did and didn't do. Optimus was Prime but Hide and Mia were his creators by claimed right. They had the say in the end and no matter that it might make the little mech hate him for a little while he would eventually get over it.

Besides, if he hated him while he was gone at least he'd be alive to do the hating. That was better than dying out there in the sand because Ironhide hadn't been there.

His spark gave another hard roll as he turned another lap in his back and forth pacing. Almost a mocking tone to his source of life's inner turmoil. Because he hadn't been there. Just a few decacycles ago he hadn't been there and he'd nearly lost Bee and Mia both because of it.

He knew he of all bots—a walking storyboard of scars—should not keep letting his now one good optic keep fall back down to that thin line running down the side of his mechling neck. That scar that would forever stain that once perfectly innocent protoform as a reminder to Ironhide of the moment his lack of presence almost cost him another son.

 _No._ He hissed to himself. _No._

It would not happen.

He would not allow it.

Bumblebee was staying here with his carrier and the rest of the army were he would be safe. All the rest of it would fall as it may, but that he could make sure happened. Because he wasn't completely sure what it was that demanded so fiercely inside him that this time he hold his ground and not give into those puppy dog optics, but it did. This sickening twist of dread inside him at the very notion of taking Bee out there with them.

It made him want to purge up his very spark.

"Ironhide is right." Prowl said quietly standing beside Jazz leaning against the table. "Besides, logically, it wouldn't make any sense. Missions were every variable is accounted for our dangerous enough with the possibility for literal spontaneous combustion at every turn, but this one is by the very least ten times worse. We don't have the slightest idea what we're walking into or what it will hold when you get there. Besides the fact that he is a youngling and he's not old enough or strong enough yet there is the fact that he has not passed his field training."

"He hasn't passed because you're purposely failing him." Ratchet grumbled at him from where he stood next to Prime with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

He wasn't arguing the intelligence of Bumblebee staying here. No, he fully agreed that the mechling was far safer here then he was running around the desert chasing shadows and ghosts with them, but that didn't mean he agreed with the method. At least not all of them.

Prowl's wings hiked up behind him, cold blue gaze narrowing as it locked onto Ratchet's brighter ones.

"I didn't see you arguing the fact while it was happening and keeping him off the lines."

Ratchet's optics narrowed right back at him. A low growl working up through the CMO's thick chest. "I never said I wanted him to pass, I just don't like that we've been lying to him to accomplish that. We should just tell him no."

"Yes," Optimus sighed, leaning heavily on the table behind him. "Because Bumblebee has always listened so well all the times we've told him no."

Jazz gave a low bitter chuckle at that. "Yeah . . . no. Gotta admit Boss Bot is right with that one. Bee don't like orders none."

"Which needs to be fixed." Prowl grumbled.

"You can't _fix_ the way he is." Ratchet bit over at the smaller mech. "He is the way he is."

"Maybe you should remember that." Prowl's wings hiked up a little higher behind him. "You don't think he's got some kind of clue as to all the checkups and scans and slag you and Arcee have been doing lately?"

Ratchet growled at him. Engine pitching a snarl, top lip curling up in a sneer as Prowl's wings hiked up higher only for Optimus to shove himself to his feet with a rumble.

"Enough." Pushing himself to his towering height he glared down at the pair of them. "Look at yourselves. What are you fighting over?"

The mechs quieted then under the Prime's bright gaze.

"You are both afraid of the same thing. We all are, but fighting about it will get us nowhere. He will stay here, and we will be back. Some orn he'll understand why."

"That's all fine and dandy." Jazz sighed quietly, drawing their gazes back to him as he stared down at his toes. "But its the orns right now and what he thinks about it that I'm worried about."

* * *

Pushing the door open with a hard shake of his whole frame Bee forced his mind and his spark quiet. Freaking out wasn't getting him anywhere and keeping secrets was just the way things were.

Arms wrapped tightly around himself as he headed for the main office he nodded to himself.

He'd be fine.

He'd been fine before with the stuff that he could do. Now would be no different. He would figure it out and he would deal with it. Because if he started telling then he'd have to tell it all and they'd . . . .

He shivered again.

Scout and Echo walked quietly at his side a reminder of all the things he didn't tell. Didn't tell because he was afraid of what they would think. What they would say.

What they would . . . do.

He wasn't normal.

He knew that.

Giving himself another hard shake Bumblebee stopped before the big flat surface of the office door. Coaxing his doorwings and winglets into a relaxed position he pushed away all the rest of it for now. The seeing things could wait, at the moment he wanted to know what they were keeping from him again.

The fact that it was sort of hypocritical of him to be so frustrated with his family keeping secrets when he himself kept so many was not lost on the little mechling, but honestly he didn't really care. It was different. He didn't know for sure why, but it was.

Taking a deep breath to straighten his back he keyed open the door and walked into the office with as bright of a smile as he could muster.

"Hey bots!" He grinned skipping in with Scout and Echo prowling in like black shadows beside him. "Whatcha doin?"

Ironhide turned to face him from over on the left, Ratchet beside him, as Jazz and Prowl leaned against the table, and Optimus stood between them all. Different shades of blue turning to face him as he slipped to a stop grinning up at the lot of them. He'd kind of figured more would be here. At least Mia, but the femmes were not. Not even Magnus and Roddy.

Something sank in his chest that he didn't even know fully what to make of. He wasn't sure how he knew but he knew he was about to be told something he wouldn't like.

His doorwings twitched as his winglets tightened down.

"Bee," Hide's deep voice rumbled as he turned fully. Bumblebee grinned, trying to keep it up, as he linked his arms lazily behind his back in an effort to hide the tightening winglets. Hide might not notice, but Prowl would. Prowl could read his doorwings when even he didn't know what they were trying to say.

Tilting his head he let his antennas flicker back and forth in their grooves.

"So what's going on now that I'm not suppose to know about?"

Optimus stiffened.

Bee just lifted an optic ridge at him.

Ironhide grumbled. "He was with Wheeljack."

The Prime let out a sudden hard sigh, Ratchet looked away, Prowl's doorwings tightened, and Jazz grumbled.

"Jacky,"

"Oh don't get snippy." Bee huffed at him with a playful twist. "He didn't say anything. He's just horrible at direction questions he doesn't know how to answer. So, what is going on? Are we going somewhere?"

He couldn't help the bright flare of excitement that shot though him then. Baby blue optics lightening up as he glanced around at all of them.

Ironhide's dark optics dimmed slightly as he watched the excitement bubble up in those bright optics shining back at him. His spark gave a painful sink in his chest. Optics running over that little yellow frame. He didn't even reach Hide's thick chest yet. Smaller still then even Jazz, even Mia. Plating light and still soft in places. Hardly anything on him said he was ready for the insignia Sunstreaker had carved into his plating for him. Despite what Hide or Mia said.

He wasn't old enough for the mark of a soldier.

He was too young for the memories that drove him to curl into a whimpering ball against his sire's and carrier's plating. He was too young for the nightmares that haunted him in the middle of the night. And he was certainly too young to see what they more likely than not were going to find on this mission. That had already been decided. Even if all of them except Prowl were going.

Bee was staying here.

No matter how much that was going to upset him.

" _We're_ not going anywhere, mechling." Ironhide told him gruffly, hardening himself as slowly the words sank in and those flickering antennas stilled. Slowly falling back into their grooves in confusion as his head tilted to the side.

The sight killed the massive mech inside, but he wouldn't let it show.

"Huh?"

"You are not coming on this mission, Bumblebee." The little yellow mech's optics shot to the powerful Prime as they glittered with confusion. Tilting his head up to stare up into the towering mech's faceplate as Optimus hardened his own resolve.

It was never easy crushing that brightness. No matter if it was for his own good. He never understood that.

"What?" Doorwings sagging behind him the little yellow mech took half a step back. Gaze suddenly darting around them all. "What do you mean?"

"Bumblebee," Optimus tired, but those bright optics narrowed up at him.

"Where are you going? I wanna help. I _can_ help!"

"Lil' Bee," Jazz stepped forward slightly reaching out to the little mech, but Bee twisted from him. Pinning Jazz in a hard look.

"I _can_ help! I can. Tell 'em, Jazz. You know I can. You say I can!"

The silver saboteur looked over the bright little youngling that now reached just under his chest in height. He had grown quite a lot since the orns where he still fit in their palms, but he was still small. He always would be.

Jazz had been teaching him everything he knew along with the rest of them to combat the fact that he was never going to be big or strong enough to take a direct plasma blast or go toe to toe with most of the Cons out there that would give anything to have the bragging right of being the one to snuff out the Autobots' precious little youngling.

So the mechs had no choice.

They had been giving him everything they could possible give him to help keep the bubbling little ball of curiosity and cleverness from getting himself offlined.

However, that hadn't changed the fact that he had a certain knack for getting his foolish little aft in trouble.

"Bee," Jazz said quietly his visor dulling as he spoke. "It's better if you just sit this one out."

By the time the silver mech was done talking he was studying the ground before him. Feeling like a coward and a liar and hating himself for it, but he was doing what he thought was right. What he also knew he had to do. Because he couldn't . . . he just _couldn't_ watch the little mech die. Finding him pinned there in that crashed disaster covered in energon he swore his spark had stopped. No matter that he'd been panicking so bad he hadn't been able to see straight.

He . . . he couldn't find his little mech . . . his little brother like that ever again. He couldn't think he was dead again.

He couldn't.

He wasn't strong enough.

He didn't need to look up to see how the little yellow mech in front him deflated. He could feel it in his spark and it took everything in him to keep from springing forward and saying that it was okay and that he could come. Just to make stop that sick pulse his energy field picked up before that warm, bubbly, happy field was yanked away but not before the tainted feeling of bitterness, confusion, and anger was picked up by the silver mech's quick perception.

He wanted to take it all back. He wanted to catch hold of him and nuzzle him and say that it was okay.

He couldn't though.

Because they were too scared of losing him to let him go.

After what happened when the ship crashed . . . no. No, they couldn't.

Even if he'd hated them for it.

He was sitting this one out. Jazz would just find a way to make it up to him when they got back. At least he had the advantage of Bee being truly unable to stay angry for very long. It just wasn't in his nature.

Maybe that made him even worse of a scrap rat for knowing he could use that against the little mech and doing it but honestly he didn't know what else to do.

The sad dip and an unhappy acceptance wasn't what the silver saboteur and the other mechs got though.

No, they got something very different.

"Fine." The quiet hiss—an actual hiss, Jazz didn't know his little brother could make that noise—was his response. Yanking his visor covered gaze back up to find that bright frame drawing in on itself. Doorwings low and tight behind him, winglets plastered down to his back strut, plating yanked so tightly to protoform it creaked as he shifted.

And then he was spinning around. Two dark hounds growling high pitches of static as they went after his stiff walk for the door.

Jazz was pretty sure his spark actually hit his toes.

"Lil' Bee!" Jazz called after him tripping over himself after him with a plead in his voice for the little mech to understand that it wasn't because they didn't think he couldn't do it. It was because they all loved him too much to lose him.

"Go and do whatever you gotta do. I don't care." Bee hissed over his shoulder as he walked to the door his doorwings suddenly flaring up in an action that shocked Jazz to a stop as they hiked up and locked in a painful looking 'v' and his antennas pinned down tightly to his head. "I'll just fraggin' sit here and wait. Like always. Because you don't trust me enough to do anything else!"

"Bumblebee!" Ironhide growled starting after him only to have Scout spin around and snap long, jagged fangs at him, skidding Hide to a stop out of pure shock as the huge hound snarled. Lips curled back over long, jagged, rows of silver teeth. Plating flared out in a bristle to make him even bigger, his tail high over his back lashing angrily back and forth.

The youngling ignored his sire and the hound more than ready to take a chuck out of him as the little mech was halfway out the door.

"Don't you fraggin' ignore me, get back here!" Ironhide snapped, glaring down at the hound as his cannons cycled despite himself.

"Bye, Hide." The little mech said quietly as the door started sliding close behind him and Scout spun in a bound, just making it out of the room as the door slammed shut, then Bumblebee was gone.

* * *

Of all the places on this overcrowded ship there wasn't actually that many places to hide. Not when by now the whole army had heard what happened.

Bumblebee had no doubt about that.

He'd turned off his comm, blocked his spark, and refused to show himself for over three joor. He didn't care if it made him a sulking sparkling. He was pissed and this time he wasn't going to swallow it down and hide it.

It . . . hurt too much.

So he went to the one bot around here that would openly defy Optimus Prime and Ironhide and was big enough to get away with it. Not only would he do that though, he would also have absolutely no problem with it. And also had enough of a track record of not coming when called that it might take a while for Bee's adopted sire, carrier, and his other might as well be set figured out that there was where he was.

That, and there were no cameras in this old hanger at the bottom of the ship where the Dinobots had been stuck so it would be harder for Red Alert to find him too.

So here he was.

Sitting in the big middle of the huge mesh pad the King of Dinobots was using as a berth on the floor of an old, cold, dank hanger at the bottom of _Victory_ with Scout and Echo's muzzles resting on his knees as he tried very hard not to cry.

He'd been crying when he stumbled into the Dinobots hanger. Half blind as he swiped at coolant, frustrated that his frames response to such powerful anger was tears. And hadn't that been an experience?

Stumbling through that massive door across the way with two whining hounds half leading half pushing him. Somehow knowing—maybe he had told him, he wasn't sure now—that the Dinobots hanger was where they needed to be. Fumbling through pinging the key lock and falling through the massive door in tears had created quite the fuss between the massive mechs and femme.

He wasn't actually sure if he had fallen down before Scorn's huge hand was around him, picking him up in the safety of her enormous claws. Laying him out in her palm and bringing him safely to her chest like no bot around here beside the beast bots had been able to do in a very long time.

Bee hadn't realized he'd missed being able to fully hide away in a bot's hands and chest until he was given the chance to again. Crying and hissing, both angry and upset all rolled into one powerful emotion that he had him locking out his comms and his spark out of pure self-preservation. They couldn't know he was feeling like this.

They didn't know he was _capable_ of feeling like this.

Maybe that was the problem.

Right now he didn't care though. He hadn't a few joor ago either.

Content to cry into Scorn's thick armor as the massive femme placed herself slowly to the floor. Rumbling, and purring as she nuzzled her huge faceplate against his back and allowing him to hide. Allowing his hounds to scale her plating and end up in a weird hanging hold against her arm just trying to get close to their alpha.

Swoop and Sludge had been distraught, Bee was guilty about it now. Remembering how the biggest and the smallest of the mechs had been turning nervous frantic circles trying to figure out what was wrong with the little mech. Snarl and Slag had been as prickly and loud as ever. Demanding they go smash whatever it was that had sent what they considered their littlest brother in tears to them.

But Scorn and Grimlock had some sense about it. The King of the Dinobots just silencing his frantic and furious younger brothers with a low growl before placing himself down on the mats next to Scorn and quietly attending to the quivering mechling.

Scorn had been the one to question after a little while after Grimlock had helped the hounds into a more secure spot at Scorn's elbow. The femme's deep, rumbling voice asking if he wanted his creators.

It was at that that Bee had been forced to get a grip over his rapidly slipping emotions and explain to the beast bots what happened. He felt even more like a stupid sparkling as he had explained it, but the reactions the massive bots gave him made him feel better.

Scorn and Grimlock didn't seem to think he'd down anything wrong. If anything all six of them wanted to go and give Optimus and Ironhide a piece of their processor—or fists—but Scorn saw reason in just letting the Autobots fret over searching the ship for him. Seeming to know that the Dinobots hanger would be one of the last places they would look.

Instead they let the little mechling cling as long as he saw fit before eventually Scorn sat him down at his wish. Letting his two hounds curl around him as he sat there on Grimlock's mesh mat calming down.

That had been about a joor ago and Bumblebee was still here. Contently here. Watching Snarl and Slag spar. The two burly mechs clashing over and over again. Locking claws, hands, arms, shoulders, frames. Clashing over and over again in thunder loud collisions.

He was pretty sure they were taking out their frustrations on each other instead of going to take a piece of Optimus and Ironhide. For which he was thankful. He was mad, yes, but that didn't mean he wanted his family trying to kill each other.

Swoop was doing what he'd been doing for a good many orns. Enjoying his wings. Wheeljack and Ratchet had finally got him back in the air. His wings were still a little weak, but they were getting better and flying would help would that.

He couldn't go outside to fly, but the hanger was big enough to give him enough room to sail back and forth as he wanted. Playing with Sludge who was transformed to beast mode as well. Long neck reaching high letting Swoop twist and spin around him. His towering legs and his long swinging tail as well making a course for Swoop to test himself around.

It was fun watching the flier playing with his brother just as it was fascinating to see their more warrior siblings testing each other.

Scorn was still near him. Her colossal frame laid out on Grimlock's mat behind him. Her long legs laid out on each side of him in protective walls as her upper frame was perched against the wall. She was messing with something on a datapad that even if it had been made special for them all by Wheeljack still looked comical small in her long claws. No matter that it was half as big as he was.

Grimlock sat beside her, his dark visor shining down at Bee every now and again but for the most part leaving Bee alone to his thoughts. He seemed to think that when the little mech wanted to speak he would.

The King was right.

Bee had come here to hide knowing it would be one of the last places they would look for him, but also because he knew that while the Dinobots were unique in their special brand of caring after they made sure he was okay they would leave him to his own mind. Knowing if he wanted to play he would but if he wanted to sit quietly he could do that as well. It was fine by them.

He loved them all for that.

Stroking absently at Scout's scared audio and down Echo's sleek side he suddenly twisted just enough to stare up into Grimlock's and Scorn's visors.

"Grimy?" He asked, the nickname he had given the massive mech what felt like so long ago still a privilege he had to use. Him and no bot else. It made his spark happy.

Those deep red optics focused down at him through the curve of red glass as the massive mech hummed letting him know that he had been heard.

"Do you think I'm a weak link?"

Slag tossed Snarl into a wall but his victorious laughter was cut off by the other mech shoving himself up and bull rushing him. Sending them both crashing back to the floor in a ball of growling laughter.

Swoop was doing figure eights around Sludge's enormous neck as the elder brother chuckled at him. Walking slowly around the other end of the hanger. His huge steps shaking and resonating like thunder.

Scorn lowered her datapad as the pair turned their full attention down to him while Grimlock seemed to consider for a moment before he rumbled.

"You Itty Bitty only as weak as you Itty Bitty believe you is."

Bumblebee stared in response to that, confusion glittering in his optics. Grimlock went on.

"Him Optimus Prime is fool. Treat you Itty Bitty like you is made of crystal. Something breakable that must be sheltered. Him Prime forget how strong crystal can be all on its own. How it crystal can weather what the towering mountain can. Just because smaller and made different does not make it crystal weak. Crystal strong in different ways. Ways that must be appreciated and never underestimated."

Bee's angry and chilly spark warmed at the words as he stared up at the mech. Watching as those deep red optics shown down at him. The King had his battle mask clicked back just as Scorn did and Bee could see him and the femme smile.

"You Itty Bitty capable of whatever you Itty Bitty wants." Scorn told him firmly, blue optics glittering. "Doesn't mean us Dinobots won't protect you when us Dinobots can, but us know you Itty Bitty can do whatever sets mind to. Him Optimus Prime and him Ironhide forget that sometimes, but only happens because them bots love Itty Bitty. You Itty Bitty need to remember this."

Bee's gaze feel a little but it was only in thought. His wings twitching with thought. Echo purred against his leg drawing his bright orbs down to her and even though it shouldn't have been possible the femme hound grinned up at him. Scout butted him in the side with his big fat head.

Bee pinched his scared audio in retaliation to the action that nearly knocked him over, but he was laughing all the same.

With another slow nod Bumblebee pushed himself upright. The hounds bounding to their paws after him only to pause when he made his way over to the bigger bots. Neither massive frames so much as twitched as Bee hauled himself up Grimlock's sharp armor until he was perched more or less hanging from the King's jagged shoulder.

"Thanks Grimy." He grinned, then looked over his shoulder at Scorn and said the same.

"Itty Bitty welcome." Scorn purred at him.

"You Itty Bitty know us Dinobots only here because of you Itty Bitty in the first place. Want to be with us Dinobots come be with us Dinobots. Us not let others bother. Me Grimlock have to punch him Prime me Grimlock perfectly alright with that."

Bee chuckled at him, leaning his cheek against the huge shoulder in his effort to hold himself up as he slowly shook his head back and forth.

"Thanks, but maybe punching Optimus isn't the answer."

"Worth shot." Grimlock told him firmly sending Bumblebee into a fit of giggles. Even more so when Scout pulsed his agreement up from the floor and Echo purred her amusement.

"Hey Itty Bitty," Scorn's voice made him twist in his hold on the huge King to look back at her as she went on. "Because him Grimlock been ignoring Wheeljack's calls for last breem him is calling me now. Wants to know if us Dinobots know where you Itty Bitty is. What you Itty Bitty want me to tell him?"

"Ignore." Grimlock grumbled.

"Him Wheeljack know me Scorn not do that. Know something up if do."

Grimlock huffed unhappily, but said no more.

Bee hung there for a moment longer thinking it over knowing deep down that hiding down here in the hanger wasn't going to solve anything. Nothing at all.

Hide would come looking for him sooner or later.

Besides, his spark was starting to hurt form shutting all the prodding and calling out for so long. So with a sigh he slid back down Grimlock's frame to land lightly on the floor.

"Nah, Scorn." He told her lightly. Making sure his doorwings and winglets were not showing too much of the unease and hesitation that was inside him. "It's okay."

"You Itty Bitty sure?" The huge femme asked him carefully. Obviously not buying what he was trying to sell as much as he would have liked.

"Itty Bitty can stay if you Itty Bitty wants to." Grimlock told him. "Me Grimlock like to see him Optimus Prime get where me don't what him."

Bumblebee couldn't help but grin a little up at the colossal mech for that, and he sent him a warm pulse for it, but Bee knew the only way to get his family to not treat him like a sparkling was to not allow himself to act like one.

So he sucked it up and shook his head at him. "It's okay, Grimy. I'm better now. I'll go talk to them. It will be okay."

The pair stared at him for a klick or two longer before they nodded. Though not before Grimlock reminded him.

"Him Prime make you Itty Bitty cry again just tell. Me Grimlock remind him why that not smart idea."

Bee smiled again, nodding before calling his hounds and heading off to go face the music.

* * *

 **Oh how I do love Grimlock and Scorn. They're so much fun to write and they love Bee so much.**

 **I hope you guys like it. :) Can't wait to see what you thought.**

 **Because we're about to start going places. See you next time.**

 **-Jaycee**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs**

* * *

Chapter 8

"But . . . you don't even know what you're looking for."

A heavy sigh puffed down over the top of his antenna topped head, but he didn't come out from the safety and warmth of Ironhide's chest with those powerful arms wrapped tightly around his back. His doorwings were hanging loosely behind him around the thick armor looped between them and the thinner winglets that hung below them.

"No, but we'll figure it out, Bee." Ironhide responded, voice deep and resonating around him in stereo because of how he was snuggled in. Bumblebee's bright blue optics were fixed on the world outside the window. The world of swirling wind and red sand that seemed to stretch on forever. They'd be landing soon and Hide, Ratchet, Jazz, Optimus, along with the twins would be walking off into that empty red void for they didn't know how long in search of they didn't know what.

And they were leaving him behind.

There had been quite a long talk after he'd finally come out from hiding behind Grimlock and Scorn. A lot of explanations he didn't believe and promises he knew would probably never be kept, but in the end he knew there was nothing he could do.

Too little and too young.

That was still the odds he was up against and though he knew they did it because they loved him and they only wanted to protect him it was still going to be hard to stand there at the top of a hanger ramp and watch half his life walk away.

He figured he was entitled to a little bit of clinging since Hide was leaving. Neither the big ebony mech nor the bright blue femme also tucked into his large side had any problem with it. As the sound of the ship's engines slowed and strained under the fight of gravity and speed to land in the shifting unsteady sands echoed through the whole cruiser.

"You will comm when you can right?" He muttered against his sire's strong chest.

Another heavy sound rolled through Ironhide, but it was Chromia who's hand was petting lightly at the hinges of his doorwings that answered.

"Being quiet is going to be the best option, Bee, but when they find something they'll call."

"Okay." He muttered softly, gaze shifting slightly to watch the pair of black hounds at the end of the berth staring with fascination out the window down to the world before. The Sea of Rust is the world they had come from. The edge of it where Jazz had picked them up what seemed like so very long ago and brought back to him.

They remembered.

A part of their sparks missed it too.

He could feel that.

The side of static-hounds that would never be tamed inside them stirring. The wild side. The side that longed to run. To hunt. To fight.

Freedom.

He could relate as his bright optics stared out through the window. It wasn't the same longing he could feel inside them, but it was still there. He'd noticed over the last few orns as they'd gotten closer and closer to the edge of the Sea of Rust that there was almost a familiarity when he stared out the windows and watched it get closer and closer.

His hounds belonged in this place by birth. They had chosen to be with him, but there was still a piece inside them that knew what they were from.

That didn't explain why Bumblebee was starting to fell drawn, but then again he didn't even know where to start on figuring out most of what was going on inside of him lately. At this point he was opting to ignore it and hopped it would go away.

Scout and Echo thought that was a rather stupid idea. However, they couldn't explain to him any better what it was that was happening to him so the truth was he was kind of fumbling.

Watching the whirls of sand get thicker and thicker as the ship's engines puffed it up and blown it free Bee's mind wondered to last night when his bubbling frustration about all the things he couldn't explain and didn't know what to do about lead to him sneaking out of his berth leaving even Scout and Echo behind to creep down to the shooting range and blow the slag out of some holo-cons.

* * *

 _"Fraggin' stupid glitches!" Bee hissed under his breath to himself in the darkness of the large empty room while he loaded another set of rounds into his snatched up blaster and fired. The molten energy slammed dead center of the holo-con's chest though it did nothing to curve the little mech's mood._

 _He snarled out through teeth clenched so tightly together his audios were pounding from the pressure and a rather impressive helm-ache was forming. Tension had a habit of doing that though and over the last few orns he hadn't be much able to even breathe for how thick it was inside him. Glaring hard again at the flickering image in front of him his optics narrowed before he hiked up the blaster, not even aiming while he went to firing again and again until he was once again he was out._

 _Kicking a random box laying on the shooting range floor he choked back the yell of frustration that wanted out while he glared to the ceiling pulling at his antennas with his free hand in frustration while marching over to collect more ammo from the long table at the back of the range. He still couldn't make his own plasma and didn't have the subspace to carry as much as he should—a fact which he was really starting to hate—so he was constantly having to get more. Add onto of that he didn't have the size or strength to even have his own blasters, let alone cannons, it made for a rather frustrating annoyance._

 _He hated that too._

 _He fraggin' hated a lot of things right now! No matter if they had talked. No matter if they supposedly thought he was alright with it._

 _He_ wasn't _!_

 _And they couldn't even_ tell _!_

 _"Why can't you just fraggin' let me try!? I can do it if you'd just let me try!" Slamming his palms down on the surface of the ammo table he sent the whole thing vibrating with a groan of stressed metal before he sank down to the floor in a heavy collapse. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he bent, clanking his forehead down on his arms, letting his wings droop pitifully to his back, and proceeded to scream muffled curses into his brightly painted plating._

 _He wasn't helpless._

 _He wasn't weak._

 _He wasn't a hindrance._

 _He could help!_

 _Why couldn't they see that he was doing every damn thing he knew to do to prove it to them!?_

 _That he could help. That they didn't have to constantly be checking over their shoulders to make sure he hadn't gotten blow to scrap yet._

 _Why wouldn't they let him prove himself to them?_

 _That was all he wanted. That was all he had wanted for a very long time. Grimlock seemed to understand, so why couldn't everybot else?_

 _Why couldn't they see that above everything else he just wanted to prove that he wasn't here by accident. That he could help protect his family like they protected him._

 _A large, strong hand falling onto his shoulder startled the mechling out of his mind and sent him scrambling to his feet. With a surprised squeak he popped up only to crash backward into the table behind him where he somehow managed to fall backward over that and crash into a rather funny looking ball of yellow and black on the other side._

 _The pair of quiet chuckles that greeted him made him glare darkly at the spinning roof above him._

 _"Oh, Bee." Ironhide said lovingly reaching over the cluttered and now half overturned ammo table offering a hand to his stuck youngling._

 _Bee just glared smoldering holes into the outstretched offering before he twisted. Levering himself around to his feet somehow on his own and after a few failed attempts managed to get halfway out from the space behind the table that was even too small for him. He wasn't really getting anywhere after that though, stuck between the half turned table and the boxes on the other side against the wall. So when the pair of hands from two massive mechs grabbed him by the scruff bar and hauled him back out all he did was cross his arms and pout like a sparkling not even caring what he looked like. They sat him carefully back on his feet grinning every so slightly at the anger and exasperation while those bright blue orbs to the Prime and the Weapons Specialist._

 _They both stared at him for a moment._

 _"Not a damn word." Bee hissed, the sound rumbling up from his spark._

 _Ironhide and Optimus deflated at the sight of him._

 _The slight grin they had had slipping away while they stared down at him._

 _Why couldn't he just understand?_

 _They were only trying to protect him._

 _Clamping down on his scattered emotions that had yet to fully level out after watching the little yellow thing stalk away from him a few orns ago the massive ebony mech reached, snatched a hold of his youngling, and yanked him to his frame without another thought. Bee went tense for a nano as Ironhide wrapped his burly arms tightly around him hugging him tightly before like a dam breaking all the tension flowed out of the little yellow mechling's frame and he latched onto his adopted Sire for all he was worth._

 _"We are fully aware you are capable of what you put your processor to, Bumblebee." Ironhide told him quietly resting his chin atop his head lightly kissing him between the antennas. He'd tried to tell the young mech that a few orns ago when he finally came out from the Dinobots' hanger it seemed he still wouldn't except it. The action got a content purr and warm pulse from the young mech's spark as he snuggled deeper into the warmth that was Ironhide's frame. The little youngling hardly reached Hide's hips let alone mid-section, but it truly was a far cry from when he use to fit in his hand._

 _The mech's hardened spark gave an unhappy twist at the realization that his little youngling really was growing up._

 _He didn't want it._

 _He wanted him to stay little forever. Little and protect-able. Where Ironhide could just scoop him up hold him to his spark and never let anything get within twenty miles of him. He couldn't do that anymore though, and he knew that._

 _"But you are still my,_ our _, youngling. We aren't going to put you into unnecessary danger." Hide finished._

 _"I'm not a sparkling anymore, Hide." Bumblebee whispered, as he had been doing for so long now._

 _"You will always be my sparkling." Ironhide rumbled protectively as he nuzzled his nose plate against a flicking antenna while Optimus nodded at his side reaching forward to rub the little mech affectionately between his doorwings making the drooping appendages perk back up._

 _"That is not something even time can change, my little Bumblebee." Optimus murmured. "But it's only because we—"_

 _"Love you, want to protect you, can't lose you, and are pretty sure the universe would stop spinning without you . . . ." Bee trailed off as he pulled his faceplate from his guardian's chest and glanced around between the two towering mechs that were smirking down at him. "Did I forget one?"_

 _Optimus reached forward and snatched the little mech from his guardian pulling him into his own hug. "Okay . . . so we repeat ourselves a lot. It's not our fault it takes stuff too long to get into this thick head of yours."_

 _Bee leaned away laughing when Optimus knuckled him between the antennas making the little mech scramble to get away until he was laughing and grinning once again. The way both officers knew he should always be._

 _For a moment after that the three of them stood there staring at each other until the truth of what was going on settled back in and Bumblebee's smile faded once again._

 _"I can help if you would just trust me."_

 _"We_ do _trust you." Ironhide shook his head pulling his mechling into his side again not comfortable with the distance he put between them. Bee didn't struggle to get away, but he didn't really lean into Ironhide's touch either. He was bitter and he didn't understand. It still hurt the massive black mech though. "But this time we have no reason to put you in harm's way. So you're staying out of it."_

 _"I am a solider you know, at least I'm gonna be. Sometimes I think you both forget that."_

 _The silence that took over both grown mechs cut into the young one's spark making him immediately regretted his words._

 _"Bumblebee," Optimus sighed heavily. "We will never be able to forget that."_

 _Bee studied the floor, doorwings lowering behind him. "I know."_

 _He snuggled into his guardian's side then more to calm the frantic beating under his audios than anything else._

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _"You've got to stop apologizing." Ironhide scolded him._

 _"Sorry."_

 _Ironhide shot him a glare for the word he didn't even know he'd said. For a moment Bee just looked at him confused until he realized he'd said it again. Hissing out a breath he shook his head._

 _"Sorr-Gah why is that always the first thing that comes out!?"_

 _Optimus and Hide rumbled a laugh at their youngling's expense before seriousness settled in again._

 _"We'll be back soon, alright?" Optimus held the little mech's gaze._

 _Bee's bright orbs lifted up the great height difference between them and studied the wise and powerful optics that held him before he nodded._

 _"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll be good for Prowl and the femmes. Can't promise I won't spend the whole time either planning something to prank you for this or talking to Rider, Smokey, and Hammer on the vid phone though."_

 _They chuckled at that._

 _"Just so long as you don't do anything stupid." Ironhide pet him on the head making him purr despite himself._

 _"No promises." Bee smirked._

* * *

Those big blue optics narrowed slightly as the memory faded and he found himself pulled along from their tiny room to head to the hanger so that the mission patrol could leave.

No promises indeed.

* * *

Arms crossed over his chest Optimus stood gazing down the dropped ramp and out into the billowing rust storm raging around them.

"We did have to land in the middle of a storm didn't we?" Hot Rod sighed.

Optimus bright optics shifted from the storm to look down at the bright expanse of his little brother. His same shade gaze was fixed out on the blurry world of swirling sand outside. Though Optimus couldn't say he blamed him. Roddy hadn't been long gone from this part of Cybertron and the last time he'd been hear he'd watched over half his crew fall around him in an explosion of fire and metal.

He was taking the _Nemesis_ and the Cons vanished worse than most.

Roddy had never been a vengeful mech, he was a little too laid back about things to be, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to hold onto his anger. Especially anger he had all the right in the world to.

"We will be fine, Roddy." Optimus assured him softly. Knowing that above all else right now was bothering the younger mech. He might agree with the need to go out and figure out what was happening, but that didn't mean he wanted them to go alone.

The Prime, the CMO, the WS, the spy master and two of the best frontliners in the whole army all going out together for a mission as fuzzy as this wasn't the best of military strategy they had ever come up with.

Prowl had made sure everybot understood that.

Jazz response to that had been at least they weren't taking the SIC too.

Prowl hadn't been amused.

Ultra Magnus had agreed with Optimus though. That the chosen to go would be able to look after themselves and were the best suited for this mission.

Roddy was just scared of the ghosts that might haunt it.

"I know." He said softly. "Just be careful, okay? I'm not ready to be the Prime."

An amused rumble echoed through Optimus while he gazed down at his little brother. "You mean you don't want to be the main one in charge?"

"Oh please," Roddy huffed. "We all know that's Prowl not you."

A snorted chortle made it out before Optimus could stop it the sound making Roddy grin up at him with amusement as he went on.

"But to answer your question, no. No, I don't want to be in charge. So don't do anything stupid, like die. Because I don't want the title and I don't want to have to listen to Prowl drone on and one about stuff even more then I already have to."

"Well," Optimus shifted a bit as his gaze turned again to the blowing storm. "Think about it this way. At least you'd get the amusement of Megatron finding out what we've been hiding from him all these vorns."

The red, yellow, and orange mech opened his mouth with a retort before pausing as he twisted around to look up his larger brother. Then promptly broke down into giggles.

"Primus." He snorted. " _That_ would almost be worth it! Can you imagine his face!?"

"Wouldn't that be counterproductive to how much work you've put into hiding who Roddy really is all these vorns, Optimus?" Magnus' deep voice rumbled as he walked up behind him. As new as it was and as strange as it still sort of was, Optimus couldn't say it didn't warm him a little inside to see Roddy's smile grow bright at the sight of the bigger mech and the way he leaned into his side when he came to stop beside them.

It was good.

It truly was.

In the face of all the destruction and death the sight of life and love—that they could still bloom on this doomed planet—filled Optimus with a rare bit of hope. It made him feel like he could face the storm that waited outside.

In both the figurative and the literal sense.

"True as that maybe," The Prime shrugged. "It would still be funny."

"Yep." Roddy grinned.

Magnus rolled his optics.

"So who's actually in charge while you're gone?" Hot Rod asked after a moment.

Both the huge commanders shared a glance before saying in unison. "Prowl."

It was worth it to watch the smaller groan and bang his head back against Magnus' side.

"I take offence to that." Prowl's even voice echoed from the back of the hanger making them all turn to find him walking toward them with Jazz skipping along beside him.

The twins were following just a few paces behind walking on Elita and Arcee's other side as they spoke with Ratchet while they all walked forward. Behind them was Ironhide and Chromia with Bee tucked between them.

They'd left the hounds in their room it seemed.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." Roddy grinned at the black and white mech with that ever present cheeky look of his.

Prowl simply rolled his optics.

"Is everything ready?" He turned his attention to the Prime instead of his little brother, amused at the puffed up annoyance Roddy got at being deemed not bother enough to even answer.

Optimus nodded to his second. "Yes."

"I've got the information copied over." Jazz went on. "And Ratchet has all our supplies. You won't hear from us again unless we're in trouble, we've found something, or it's time to call it done."

"Do be careful." Elita's sweet, rich voice said as she quickly tucked herself into her mate's side earning a rumble from him. They had said goodbye this morning, but that did not mean either of them indeed the quick touch before they would be separated again.

"We have every plan to." Optimus assured her with a warm look.

"Plans go astray." Prowl warned sternly, his cool optics flickering over the gathered circle.

"We'll be fine, Prowl." Sideswipe smirked down at him.

"You'll be wishing we were gone again before long anyway." Sunstreaker teased with an arched optic ridge.

"So don't miss us too much." Sides finished.

Bumblebee snickered from his place tucked into Mia's side. It was clear from the beam the twins gave him they were goofing off and teasing for no other reason than to pick the deflated little mech up a few pegs.

"It's really storming out there." Arcee couldn't help the comment making every set of optics dart out the lowered ramp. Assessing and watching the billowing of the storm turn the world outside into a blurry red cloud of blankness. They wouldn't be able to see much more than a few steps in front of them in that mess, but there was a reason it was Ironhide and Jazz that were going beyond just the skills they possessed.

Jazz and Hide had been born out there in those swirling sands and endless red.

If there were anybots among them now that could navigate the Sea of Rust for something they weren't even sure what it was they were looking for it was them.

"It will lay before night." Jazz drawled with a shrug. "Besides, it will help cover us for a while. A little sand ain't gonna hurt nothing."

"Speak for yourself." Sunstreaker grumbled. "It's gonna slag my finish."

Sides poked him in the arm.

It got him smacked upside the head.

"Stop it, the pair of you." Ratchet scolded them. "I'm not going to listen to you bicker the whole time we're gone. You're paint will be fine, Sunstreaker."

The golden twin huffed and didn't look any less ruffled, but he didn't say anymore.

"Be careful." Bumblebee said quietly, safely tucked against his carrier's side. It earned him a few warm looks and before they left the twins snatched him up and squeezed him tight, Jazz knuckled him between the antennas, Ratchet and Optimus hug him hard, and Ironhide held him for a long moment but then they were gone.

Disappearing out into the whirling sand.

Chromia, Arcee, Elita, Bumblebee, and Prowl stood there for a long time after they were gone. Watching the sand fly and twist.

"How soon until we take off?" Elita questioned Prowl after what had to be a breem.

"Before midnight." Prowl answer. "Inferno, Hound, and Trailbreaker are checking some of the engines. They didn't like the way it sat down in the wind. After they get it all checked out we'll take off."

Bumblebee's antennas twitched at the information.

He had a bit of wiggle room, but he was running out of time.

* * *

Sneaking into Jazz's office wasn't the hard part.

No.

The hard part was getting Chromia, Arcee, and Elita to let him out of their sight. They were convinced he was upset—which he was—and they were also convinced they were going to make him feel better. It took four joors to get Mia to believe he was tired and wanted to go to berth early.

After all that playing and such with the femmes he had to admit he felt better, but it didn't change his mind.

No, at this point nothing was going to change his mind.

He'd made it up after the first talk about him just being too little and too young. That he had to stay here because he wasn't ready for what lay out there in the real world.

Well.

They were about to see just how wrong they were.

Even if he didn't have a plan.

At least not much of a plan. More of a frustrated righteousness that was more than likely going to get him in a whole pit of a lot of trouble, but to be perfectly honest he didn't give a damn.

Even as he slipped out of berth after night had fallen, optics glowing as they watched Chromia's quietly recharging in her now too big and too empty berth. The sight of her laying there by herself had worried Bumblebee.

He'd been afraid it would kill his resolve and make him stay, but if anything it just hardened it. Made his jaw clench as he gave a harsh nod.

Because this was right. Even if it was going to get him in a lot of trouble.

It was right.

He wasn't all that sure _why_ it was right outside the burning need to prove himself. It just was. There was something more bubbling under it all that he wasn't sure how to define. It was still there though.

This calling.

He had to.

He had to go.

It was important.

He blew his resting carrier a kiss, patted a rather confused Scout and Echo on the head, and made for the door only to have to pause and look back when they both huffed at him.

 _"What doing?"_ Echo asked, audios pushed forward with a curious expression on her face.

Scout look suspicious.

He had every right to be.

 _"I'm going after them."_ There was no point in lying. They'd know that he was.

Both of them shot upright on the berth, their black optics widening, only to pause when Bee lifted a hand and pointed at the berth.

 _"No."_ He shook his head. _"No, you both have to stay here."_

 _"What slaggin' mean_ stay here _!?"_ Scout's audios pinned back and his lips curled up over his head. He lowered it and glared hard at his alpha, looking all the world ready to tear something apart. But the world couldn't see into his spark.

Bumblebee could.

There was more hurt and confusion there than anything else.

Sighing he sent a pulse to the both of them, knowing they wouldn't completely understand, but also knowing they couldn't go with him. He wouldn't put them at risk. Even if they probably could protect each other out there. There was just too many variables and he was too afraid to lose them to let them come with him.

Besides, this was about proving he was capable. That he could _do_ this.

He couldn't have them there watching his back and make it work the same.

They were just going to have to accept that.

 _"I have to go alone."_ He explained. _"I need you to stay and protect Mia while I'm gone."_

The angry mech hound deflated a little at that as the siblings turned to look back in a shared motion at the recharging femme.

 _"They not know you going."_ It wasn't a question, for Echo already knew the answer.

Bee just nodded.

 _"Gonna get in trouble."_ Scout huffed.

 _"Probably."_ Bee nodded again. _"But I have to do this."_

 _"Why?"_ Echo whined slightly, uneasy and unhappy but knowing Bee was in charge. He was the alpha. He made the rules. Even if they were stupid rules currently.

 _"Because I need to."_ Bee answered with a sigh.

Neither of them were happy about it, but with a quiet huff both laid back down onto his berth with a slow nod.

 _"Okay."_ Scout huffed.

 _"We stay."_ Echo promised.

 _"We protect."_ Scout finished.

Bee walked back over and gave them both a kiss between the audios then left with a quiet wave heading forward Jazz's office.

* * *

He knew the pass code to both the door of Jazz's office and his computer console. Jazz didn't know he did, but he did.

Turns out he didn't need the later information though.

He'd figured Jazz would have locked up the information they had spent so much energy not telling him about, but apparently he didn't. Which was why Bee was currently standing by his desk flipping through the datapad he'd seen being passed around for a decacycle.

He couldn't make it out.

He knew that Wheeljack had asked Swoop about it a few orns ago, but turns out even the one Dinobot that could read the stuff of ancient times couldn't figure out what he was looking at. That had been the last deciding factor that said they were just going out with or without information to find out what was out there.

To Bee it just looked like a bunch of wiggling lines and twisting text.

As in . . . _actual_ wiggling.

It . . . almost seemed to be _moving_.

Bee tilted his head back and forth as he stared at the screen. Each time he did it all seemed to change. Dancing and swaying a little across the page to look like something else.

He didn't have any idea what any of it said, but the fact that it was moving was pretty interesting. So he kept flipping through the digital pages watching the words wiggle until he came across the last little bit of writing.

It was sloppy, and looked like some kind of last klick note thrown in.

Suddenly Bee tensed.

Because . . . he . . . could _read_ it. Even as the symbols and glyphs swayed on the screen he could make out what it said.

 **War and Dust,**

 **Have a clue.**

 **Oh, and don't break him.**

 **-Trick**

Bee blinked.

Shaking his head slightly he looked a bit harder at the text but that was it. That was all it said. He was left standing there staring down at the datapad in his hand thinking as that growing since of _go_ within him got a little stronger.

It almost seemed familiar.

Like he should understand more than the vagueness of it, but he didn't.

Instead he decided he'd look at it some more later. He was losing time.

Tossing the pad into subspace he figured that was enough information. They didn't have any more than he did now. From this point on it would just be tracking.

Bee could do that.

He would do it.

He'd track them and shadow them.

He'd prove he was more than just some useless little burden that needed to be taken care of and sheltered.

The warming ship engines gave a low hum as they finally clicked into order and were ready for lift off.

He had to go and he knew just the way out.

All it took was a few halls. A slip into the lower boiler rooms, down between an old underused maintenance tunnel and a cat-walk he'd found on accident. Then it was a simple flip of a switch and a purge of trash cargo hold.

He ended up face first in a pile of sand scrap, which was less then comfortable, but hey it worked, as the _Victory_ climb through the quiet night not knowing he wasn't on it.

Popping up out of the sand with a slowly growing grin the little yellow and black highlighted mech rolled over to watch his home disappear into the clouds and the night.

It was time to prove himself.

Rolling to his feet he sat off at a jog through the night.

* * *

Grinning through the shadows of the night a set of ice blue optics watch alongside a burning set of red as a small bundle of yellow metal head out across the cold desert night in pursuit of his destiny. Though he didn't know quite yet it was that that he was chasing.

"I can't believe that actually worked." Impulse admitted in a low, quiet rumble as he stared out through the darkness.

Trickster just grinned all the wider. "I can. He's a clever little fragger."

"I didn't think he'd disobey them." Impulse huffed. "I thought we were going to have to come up with something else."

"No." Trickster shook his head slightly. "I knew he would. I knew they'd say no and he'd get angry enough to defy them."

"It's about time." Impulse had to put in. "He's not some helpless sparkling."

"Yes, and it's time for him to prove it." Trickster nodded.

"You think he'd figured out how to read it all yet?"

"Nah," Trickster shook his head again. "Maybe some of it, but he's gonna have to work for a while to understand it all. He's never seen the old script before. It will take him some time to work through how to look at it."

"He doesn't have much time." Impulse sighed. "None of us do. The Fallen and Megatron won't stay out licking their wounds for long. He's going to come for it soon and Wardrums is not yet convinced about his part."

"That will come sooner than you might think." Trickster smirked at him with a lifted optic ridge. "He's about to get thrown back in no matter if he likes it or not."

"You're sure it's best this way?"

"No, but its what we were told to do so we will do it. They're all on the right track now. They'll find the All Spark and if we are lucky they will do it before the Cons come back."

"You know that won't happen." Impulse rolled his shoulder, gaze narrowing as he stared out into the desert night watching their youngest sibling disappear into the night.

Yeah.

Trickster did know that, but he could hope all the same.

Hope that this didn't have to end in energon and fire.

He knew it would though.

He knew what was coming next. All three of them did.

There was no changing this line of fate nor thread of destiny. The balance of the universe was set on a very thin set of shoulders. On how much he was willing to leak before it was all said and done. For he couldn't have help yet.

First he had to be on his own.

The balance was shifting.

Darkness was slipping under the growing light of what had finally come to pass. The two had returned and it was time for them to rattle the stars. But first the youngest would have to stand up and face the last turning point.

The last darkness before light could come again.

He would have to do what he was so desperate to. He would have to prove himself.

Though he didn't know to the full degree of what yet.

He didn't know just how much swallowing down the orders and defying them this time was about the rock this whole planet. Of course, he wasn't meant too.

Not yet at least.

He still had a long way to go before he'd ever know the truth but soon he'd figure out a great deal of it. No matter what Ironhide, Optimus Prime, and the Autobots wanted or thought.

He didn't belong to them.

He belonged to something far older, and far more powerful.

His purpose was greater than they could ever guess on their own.

"What needs to happen will happen." Trickster said in a soft voice as he turned away from the dark desert night. They had more to see to. For now, he was truly on his own. "It always does."

"Ever if we don't always agree with it." Impulse nodded along, following his guild brother. His balance partner. His . . . other half.

"Oh we very rarely agree with it, but sometimes you have to break something before it can heal. Before it can ever be all it was meant to. Life is strong. It endures. It adapts and it gets stronger. It can never be held down for long. No matter what, there is light out of darkness just as there is life out of death. That is the way of things. No matter what, that is the way it always has been. That is the way it always will be."

"But Death is needed just the same." Impulse put in as he followed. "There cannot be one with the other."

"That's why there is two." Trickster looked over his shoulder with a smile. "That's why Ever is watching him. We've still got some time before that has to happen. For now, Bumblebee must rattle Cybertron to its core. The universe will just have to wait to after that."

"I'm looking forward to this." Impulse grinned darkly as the two of them vanished into the night.

* * *

 **As am I, Impulse, as am I.**

 **So, yeah, hi guys. Been a little bit. Sorry for the delay, but well things happen. This is a bit of a in-between chapter, however, it was needed to put us into place for what will be happening next. I hope you all liked it and I look forward to seeing what you thought.**

 **There is more then a little bit of hint thrown in for you.**

 **Thank you for reading and reviewing. See you all next time.**

 **-Jaycee**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers.**

 **Just the plot and OCs of this never ending story.**

 **Hey look! Could it be? A _chapter_!? **

**No freaking way!**

 **Yeah . . . I should be writing one of my final papers.**

 **But, I'm not. So here you go.**

* * *

Chapter 9

 _This is quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done in the history of ever._

The thought had become something of a mantra in his head over the last five orns. This orn appeared to be no different as Bumblebee slowly and carefully tried to pick his way out of the sticky, hard pit of . . . well actually he wasn't quite sure what it was he fell into but he did know it smelt awful and it was starting to itch.

And burn.

Yeah.

The burning was probably a bad thing.

Most likely.

Jumping along with a good bit of stumbling finally got him out of the nasty slag but not without a limp to show for it. It would go along well with the sand burns on his doorwings, his bent winglet, his bruised antenna, and his very empty tanks.

Falling down in a huff once he was far enough away from the pit of whatever-the-slag-the-nasty-stuff-was Bee pulled his legs up in a bend as he went to trying to get the sticky stuff off. At this point he only had one rag left but he figured giving it up to stop the burning was probably a good idea.

Giving himself as good as a rub down as he could, going so far as to pick up handfuls of sand and start scrubbing with them as well he did manage to get all of the green stuff off of him. That left him able to sit there in the hot sand and look down at the gash torn up the back of his calf with a sigh.

"Frag it." He huffed, letting his whole frame fall backward with a plop to the sand. Squeezing his optics shut he tried to pretend he wasn't hungry and he wasn't hurting and he wasn't a Primus damn idiot.

So far, he wasn't having much luck.

The first orn and a half after he jumped off the ship had gone really well. He managed somehow to pick up the bots' trial and follow them for a good while, but another rust storm had picked up that night leaving him huddled cold and alone in a rock alcove to wait it out. When he tried to pick up the trail the next morning he'd been . . . less than successful.

"Stupid sand." He muttered again, throwing his arms up to rest in a cross against his forehead. "Stupid desert. Stupid lack of a plan."

Stupid him.

Stupid not remembering to pack _energon_.

Food.

Honestly.

He forgot to pack freaking _food_!

He was so gonna get scrapped for his. There were no ifs ands or buts about it.

When Ironhide and Optimus figured out what he'd done now either if he caught up with them or Preceptor and Red managed to hack into his comm he'd turned off and blocked as Jazz had showed him like they had been trying to do for orns . . . well his guardian and his leader might just kill him for this one. He was pretty sure it might happen. He couldn't help it though.

Did they really expect him to sit at home and twiddle his thumbs?

Pit no!

He was a scout! This was what they were training him for. He was gonna prove to his family that he wasn't a weak link.

Even if it freaking killed him. Which at this rate, it just might.

The notion that that actually would be kind of counterproductive to the whole proving he wasn't stupid, weak, useless, and going to get himself killed did in fact register in his cooking in the sun processor but at this point he really didn't give a damn.

He was their youngling and he had learned enough to get him this far. He wasn't dead yet and that had to count for something. He could do it. He could fight beside them. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't incapable.

He wasn't . . . a worthless runt.

He . . . had to somehow convince himself to stand back up on an aching leg and get back to tracking.

Yeah.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

Up.

He'd get up, and then he'd get moving. One step at a time. That was doable.

He could do that.

So he did. Levering himself up with a bit back groan Bee took in the sight of the torn armor at the back of his leg. He got most of the _stuff_ out of the cut, at least to the point it wasn't burning anymore, but he was pretty sure that needed to be welded up.

There was nothing for it though.

He couldn't do that one his own.

The best bet he had was to just wrap the cloth around it and get back to tracking.

He was about half an orn behind the patrol, at least that was his best bet at the moment. He knew at least he was back on their trail. They kept altering speed and it made it hard for him to judge just how far ahead they were. But if he played his cards right he should catch up and stay out of sight while they recharged tonight. Then he could quietly sneak along right there with them and he would get to see it.

Whatever . . . _it_ was.

The reason they were out here snooping around the desert like hounds in the first place. There had to be a pretty good reason. Likely one they didn't feel like telling him and with the datapad tucked away in his subspace—yeah, he brought that and not food, really smart on his part—he was sure this was important.

He still hadn't managed to read more then what he had the first time. The writing kept bouncing around and swaying over the screen. It wouldn't stand still long enough for him to even try and read it.

Not that that made any sense, but it was the truth.

A heavy sigh rolled through him as he shook his head.

Now wasn't the time to be thinking about the writing, or the reason of being out here. Now was the time to bind his leg and get back on his feet. So that was what he did.

It was time to catch up.

It was time to prove himself.

The notion sent his antennas flicking with excitement.

He couldn't help it.

He wanted to see it.

He was curious. It was just the way he was.

Always had been.

Pushing himself up with his doorwings tucked tightly to his back the brightly colored youngling started forward again. Carefully sliding down the rocky outcrop he had been trying to get down when he slid into that _stuff._ Then crouched among the gravel of what might have at one time been the old forgotten road through the ever changing sands but now was nothing more than the red particles blowing in the breeze looking for the imprints of tracks marring the surface.

Jazz had taught him well.

He found the tire marks almost instantly and with a devious little grin Bee hardened his resolve and started forward again.

He could do this.

He could.

He'd prove it.

To them, and to himself.

* * *

Optimus stood with his arms crossed looking over the open waste land of the Sea of Rust before him and his patrol.

"Been a long time since I saw this place." Jazz whispered.

"Didn't think I'd ever see it again." Ironhide snorted.

"Why is it called the Sea of Rust when there isn't any water and there isn't any rust?" Sideswipe chuckled.

His brother glared at him.

"You're an idiot."

"But you love me."

"I'm stuck with you."

"Admit it, you adore me!"

"As if."

They went off into one of their little bickering matches again while Optimus, Ironhide, Jazz, and Ratchet watched with amusement.

"Why the Pit did you bring them again?" Ratchet sighed looking over to the Prime.

Optimus just smiled.

"'Cuz they woulda got Lil' Bee in trouble while we were gone." Jazz grinned.

Both twins snapped to attention.

"Would not!" They hissed.

"Yes ya would have." Jazz returned.

"Would not!" Sides repeated. "He chooses to be in the pranks all on his own. That isn't my fault."

The officers just stared at him.

"Okay well maybe I'm an influence a tiny bit." The red warrior relented.

Optimus shook his head turning to gaze out over the vase emptiness that stretched on before them. His bright blue optics taking in the seemingly never ending world of red around them.

Their task was about like finding a specific grain of sand in all this mess. But what made it worse was, they weren't even _actually_ sure what they were looking for out here.

Nothing about this was going to be easy.

"Finding it out there isn't going to be easy." Optimus sighed, his massive shoulders slumping slightly at the weight that rest invisibly on them.

"That's what ya got me for." Jazz all but chirped bouncing on his toes. Claws flexing with his thoughts as he too gazed out at the sands. "Turn me lose, Boss Bot. I'll find what we're looking for."

"Oh I know you can find it, Jazz. It's the part that comes after the finding that really has me worried."

"Part of me isn't sure we really want too." Ratchet took a long breath. "There is a reason that magic cube was lost if you so recall."

"That's just an old sparkling tell, Ratch." Sideswipe waved him off. "You don't _really_ believe that nonsense about it being a doorway do you?"

"Until not many vorns ago we all thought the Guild was a sparkling tale too, Sides." Ratchet replied making the red mech along with his golden other half tense up. "They are far from sparkling tales, and Trickster has his hands in all this. There is nothing about any of this that is a game or fake."

"We'll just blow it up and be done with it. Then it won't matter." Sunstreaker shrugged, his dark optics narrow. "Then we go home because I promised Bee we'd finish the mural."

Sideswipe's smile faded at that. "He wanted to come you know."

Ironhide's optics narrowed as a growl rose up in his chest. "No."

"Bad idea, Sides." Sunny shook his head over at his brother who huffed in return.

"I didn't say it was a good idea. He was just pretty upset when you said he had to stay with Prowl and the femmes." Cutting his gaze to the Prime Sideswipe looked the towering two tone mech over as he sighed and stared out over the horizon.

"There will be other chances for him to be curious and foolish. Plenty of missions for him to scare us all to death on. This one he is having nothing to do with though. I will not allow it. Not with how little we know and how much Trickster seems to want this."

"Trickster is never getting anywhere near him." Sunstreaker's gaze narrowed to thin slits, a thick, hard sound rumbling around in his chest.

"Which is why he's still on the ship." Jazz said. "He'll be fine in a few orns. We'll go blow up one of Mega-idiots plans and he'll be all bubbly again in no time."

Ironhide sighed. "I just wish it didn't matter to him so much. He's only in his third frame! He's too little to fraggin' be in the field anyway!"

"He will always be little, Hide." Ratchet put in quietly.

Ironhide just grumbled.

"Hide," Optimus cast his friend a glance. "None of us can change the war. We cannot change that it is teach him to defend himself or he dies."

"I know all that." Ironhide growled. "I just wish it wasn't this Primus-damn way!"

"We all do." Sideswipe mumbled as they all fell into silence staring out over the empty red desert that stretched out before them. The place they would confront a past and search for the plan that even Megatron didn't seem to know what to do with. Or at least couldn't find.

It had hurt them all to look Bumblebee in the optics and tell him he could not come, but that was the way it must be. This was one mission he was to afraid to let the small yellow bot tag along on. There was no telling what they were going to find here, but whatever it was he didn't want Bumblebee anywhere near it.

No matter how mad that would make him.

If it would keep him safe, they'd do all they could.

* * *

Bumblebee was, on a very real level, aware that his plan was not going so well.

"No!" He snapped, clinging a little harder to the rock face he had shimmed up and gotten into this mess because of. "No! NO! Stop it! I'm not _food damn it_! And I'm not after your clutch!"

The hive hawk currently trying to pull his antennas out of his head didn't much care for this reasoning though. Glowing a bright hot orange, lit up like a flying ball of fire—burning like one too—she repeatedly dived at him. Sharp talons pulling at armor and protoform. Hot, acid glowing feathers burning as she flapped.

Hive hawks were actually a pretty interesting species. They came in a verity of colors. Fliers without the use of engines or thrusters. They're fascinating, almost cloth like wings were they're only source of flight.

Then there was that whole aspect that they could light themselves on fire, but at the moment that thing about them Bee had once found rather awesome was actually really annoying.

In the hawk's defense she was defending her nest full of hatchlings about twenty feet over his head that he had somehow missed when he chose this rock to climb, but really, this was just getting ridiculous.

Doorwings plastered down in an effort to protect both them and his winglets—both of which were already burnt and aching, thanks Mrs. Hawk—Bee did his best to get both the pit off the rock and not get himself killed by falling at the same time. All while an angry hawk pecked and clawed at his head.

This whole adventure thing to prove them all wrong was getting a bit annoying.

* * *

Standing just on the edge of the bottom of a towering dune Ironhide watched a flock of hive hawks dance about on the hot air currents what had to be miles above them. The birds themselves were not all that large, but that trick of turning into basically comets and striking across the sky had a habit of bringing attention to them even if they were nothing more than dots so high up in the sky.

Seeing them did something both warm and cold to his spark. Seeing life still clinging on out here in what had once been an untamable wilderness turned wasteland was good for a spark that had been born out here, but on the flip side of that all he could think now as he watched them dance through the dimming sky was that Bumblebee would want to see them.

He'd find it fascinating.

He'd never had a chance to see them before. Not outside Bluestreak's books, Sunstreaker's drawings, and Jazz's stories. They had all taught him about the wildlife that once roamed plentiful and free that now were little more than haunting ghosts clinging to life on a dying world, but they couldn't show him what had once been. Not now.

Not with the way Cybertron was now. Not with what it had become.

However, that did not diminish a sire's wish to give his youngling everything he could ever want. To give him a world and a future far better then what he realistically had to offer.

Wasn't going to stop him from trying though.

The powerful black mech sighed.

Little trouble maker was going to be the death of him one orn he would swear to it. For now though Hide was just glad he was safe at home where he belonged. Not out here with them about to brave the Sea of Rust to find Megatron's latest scheme.

Glancing toward his leader and his best friend he lifted an optic ridge at the powerful Prime.

"Let's get going. We need to find a place to camp before the sun sets."

"Yeah, Sea of Rust is not a place you want to go gallivanting around in once its dark." Jazz added with a grin. "There's stuff that likes to eat ya."

The twins leaned around the Prime's bulk to stare at the silver mech with raised optic ridges. A look to which he just grinned broadly before skipping off down the hill until he fell into his alt mode racing into the red colored wasteland.

"Guess Jazz is leading the way." Ratchet snorted in amusement as they all shifted into their own alts and headed after him.

Before they broke though the towering dunes that sealed them in on all sides now though Sideswipe spoke up over the private comm link channel between them that Jazz had wired. The one that was acting as an interference to them being tracked. It would keep them safe, but was blocking their normal comms at the same time. However, that was kind of the point. They weren't suppose to be being contacted to keep them from being tracked.

Their normal comms were supposed to be down.

 **"Is there really stuff that wants to eat us out here?"**

 **"Oh yeah!"** Jazz all but chirped disappearing around a dune.

 **"Grand."** Sunstreaker grumbled as they all fell silent again racing into the gathering darkness.

* * *

Bumblebee stood with wonder looking out over the expanse of red that seemed to go on forever in front of him. It was like nothing he'd ever seen and even in the darkness he could see the power and danger that imitated from this place. He took several stills of the towering canyons before that marked the arched entry way into the endless desert of red that stretched on before him when he first worked his way in. And there were a whole lot more sitting in his internal gallery from the other things he'd see as he made his way through the sands over the last orns.

Prowl had given him many history lessons about the Sea of Rust. He knew of the legends and the so-called-monsters that called the place home, he even knew about the ancient tribes that once called areas of the Sea home, he was aware that Jazz and Ironhide had come from tribes such as those, but he didn't think it was coming to be as intimidating as it was.

It kind of made his armor crawl the slightest bit as he stood on the outcropping where he had followed the tire marks staring out into the darkness, but he wasn't about to turn back now. He had places to see and things to do.

There was no time for fear.

Or for the weird kind of calling that was happening in his spark. The glitchy thing was doing something weird again. Something it did a lot, not that Bee really minded, he found his 'Gift' as Prime called it kind of awesome. Always had. He loved being able to feel and be felt. He didn't know how he would live without it. Sometimes though his spark did do really weird things. Like right now.

Running a hand over where the quivering ball of light that was pulsing in his chest he murmured to himself.

"Chill out in there. Nothing's going on."

His powerful spark didn't heed him though. It just went right on quivering and pulse rapidly like it was trying to call to something without his consent. Shaking his head he pulled up his walls to keep himself hidden and then transformed back to his alt. Mindful of the aching burning and cuts all over him. The gash on his leg had finally glazed itself over with repair nanites after he all but tumbled down that rock face running away from angry carrier hawks. Which was good because he threw his cloth at them as a distraction as he fled with as much dignity as a mech could when there were flying fire balls trying to peck his optics out right behind him. He had already decided that leaving that part of this adventure out when he found the others would probably be best. Not that he was going to be able to do much hiding of all the . . . _hurts_ he'd gotten, but well, he'd figure out how to deal with that when the time came. For now he took another deep breath and worked through the transformation. Ignoring the hot flashes of pain and errors that flashed through his processor as he did. Instead he gritted his teeth, heading out after his family members that were stupid enough to think they could leave him behind.

* * *

He was shaking.

Granted, that wasn't new over the last five orns. Come to find out the Sea of Rust was a tad bit emotion when it came to temperature. The orns could melt the protoform off of a bot, but the nights could freeze the energon in their very veins.

It wasn't long into the first night out here, Bee figured out fire was going to have to be a must. One because without it he was going to freeze his stupid aft of, and two because—

An eerie screech tore through the empty darkness making Bee spin around in a flash. Bright blue optics wide and searching as he flicked his gaze back and forth. But not even his—rather limited—night vision was going to help him out here. The Sea of Rust might as well be a Sea of Ink at night.

The stars and the moons shown and lit up the world on clear nights, but there had only been one clear night since he jumped off the ship.

Swallowing hard Bee calmed himself as best he could and turned back to his task.

"Reason two." He muttered to himself. "Monsters."

Yep.

As far as he was concerned that was a pretty good reason right along the whole not freezing to death idea. However, tonight he didn't have that option.

If he hunkered down and stayed put maybe he could get a fire going, but considering he didn't have anything left to burn that was pretty much a mute point. Besides, he was close. When he flared out his doorwings he could make out the tell-tale sounds of voices not far ahead. He had—remarkably—caught up.

Another screech tore through the night and despite the fact that his armor was just about rattling against his protoform from the cold Bumblebee refused to turn around. Refused to the let the hot taste of fear flare up in his throat again.

It was just a hawk calling to its mate.

Or a lone circuit deer still somehow alive out here.

It was, not a monster.

It was not a bot.

Jazz said the monsters that ruled the sands died out long ago. Prowl did too. So there was not giant sand shark lurking beneath him or out there in the night.

There was absolutely _nothing_ to be afraid of.

Besides, he was almost there. Maybe half a mile and he'd reach their camp.

And despite the fact that Optimus and Hide were going to kill him he was so going right to that camp.

He was cold, he was hungry, and his plan of his had kind of sucked from the beginning. He'd gotten this far and he wasn't dead yet. That had to account from something, right?

He was pretty sure it did.

So that was what counted.

* * *

"It is fraggin' cold in this fraggin' endless waste land!" Sideswipe plopped down in the red dust wrapping his arm around himself glaring angrily at the ground in front of him as if it was the cause of the sand in his joints and the tension in his shoulders. Along with the chill clinging to his insides.

He scooted closer to the fire, but the dim thing wasn't doing a whole lot of good.

"It's a desert at night. What did you expect it to be, Sides? Warm?" Ratchet snorted at him from where the yellow and red medic reclined against a boulder just a few feet from him. Ironhide chuckled from where he rested near him with Optimus leaned back against a towering rock jutting out of the sands that they had found and decided to camp next to for the night beside him. Sunstreaker was crouched on a boulder just over his twin a little hesitant to place his brilliantly gold—now rather dull and scuffed from blowing winds and sand, but he was trying really hard to ignore that fact—paint in the dirt if he didn't have to while Jazz was seated next to the red warrior his bright optics taking in the darkness around them from behind his visor.

Every now and again a screech tore through the darkness and they all tensed, but considering neither Hide or Jazz lit up their weapons those that hadn't been born in this desert figured it couldn't be anything too note worthy out there making that awful sound.

"Well I didn't think it was gonna be this damn cold!" Sides snapped back at the medic. Arms wrapping tightly around himself as he shuffled a little closer to the fire that was flickering in the middle of all of them.

What the frontliner would give for a thermal blanket right about now.

"Will you mute your complaining?" Sunstreaker rumbled, pushing himself to his full height and stretching out his strong back. Doing his best to ignore the sound of sand grinding between armor and protoform as he did. Judging by the way his optic twitched a bit he wasn't all that successful. "You're a grown mech if you're cold than adjust your inner temperature or get closer to the fire."

"Only so much that can do, glitch." Sides grumbling to himself.

"Did you just call me a glitch!?" Sunstreaker hissed back, jumping off his rock perch to land beside his other half with a thud and a snarl kicking up through his engine.

"Both of you knock it off." Ratchet warned them through narrow optics. His dark blue gaze locking them in place and affectively ending the brewing fight born of frustration and fatigue before they had the every wild thing that might be left alive out here in this Primus forsaken wasteland on their backs.

There were a few more unhappy grumbles, but eventually both twins fell into silence the wear of the last several orns events making even them more than a little tried. They needed rest, they all did for that matter. Though Ratchet knew better than to think both twins would recharge at the same time in a strange land when they were on high alert to any threat that might come their way. Which was why none of the officers were surprised when Sunstreaker volunteered for watch and vanished into the shadows before Optimus could even agree with him.

Once his twin was gone Sideswipe sat still for a moment longer leaned back against the rocks. His audio horns twitching every now and again as it was clear he was both listening and feeling where it was Sunstreaker went and what he was seeing. It lasted long enough that Ratchet was sure he was going to have to force the mech to recharge as if he was still a youngling but eventually Sideswipe settled down completely. Apparently, content with whatever it was Sunstreaker saw and where he was so. Leaning back completely, stretching his long legs out toward the fire the powerful frontliner closed his optics content to rest for a while.

Jazz yawned not far from him, giving his armor a good shake before he too leaned back and took a few klicks to get some rest. Optimus cast both Ratchet and Ironhide a glance, but Ironhide was already snoring quietly while Ratchet simply leaned his head back and closed his optics. The Prime was more than sure that Sunstreaker would watch over them well through the night so he too leaned back and closed his optics trying to keep his processor alert to the mission at hand and not let it drift back to wondering what Bumblebee was up too, and hoping he'd made the right decision by not letting him come.

* * *

Sunstreaker stood a little ways off perched atop another large boulder staring off in every direction with a simple twist and flicker of optics every nano or two. His dark blue optics gazing through the darkness in search of anything and everything that was foolish enough to try and be a danger to his family.

He was still a little on edge about leaving Bumblebee behind. Partly because he didn't like letting the little mech out of his sight anymore then Ironhide and the other did, but he knew it was for the best . . . . Something in his spark was saying that they needed to keep Bee as far away from whatever it was they were heading toward as possible.

Maybe it was fear of Trickster and everything he held. Sunstreaker wasn't sure, but it was something important all the same.

It still hurt him when he remembered the glance he'd thrown over his shoulder that one last time over his shoulder and see Bee standing there in the huge arched door of the battle ship besides his carrier waving slightly as they left him behind.

He didn't want to do it.

He didn't want the little yellow trouble maker out of his sight for longer than a breem. He got into more chaos than the golden mech's slaggin' twin did. And he was Sideswipe! How in the name of Primus had the little youngling grown into such a danger magnet?

It wasn't fair.

Sunstreaker swore Primus was just trying to drive him to glitch.

A sudden movement among the shadows had Sunstreaker's battle programs running before he'd even spun to trace the movement as his long glittering dueling swords slid from his wrist in a quiet but eerie sound. He leapt from his picked post, landing in the sand in a crouch. A low growl rose up in his throat as his optics narrowed into the inky darkness.

He was no fool.

He knew the legends of what lurked in the vastness of the Sea of Rust protected over all the millennia by the fact that there just was so much emptiness and not enough interest in this place. Giants could hide among these canyons and dunes and the world would never know now that the Tribes had long since died out.

There was suppose to be nothing out here, but monsters that haunted sparkling tales and history data pads were at one time real.

Once Sunstreaker was sure that they were nothing other than stories, but with the way Jazz and Ironhide had talked now he wasn't so sure. Maybe there were beast among the shadows that might even give _him_ a run for his credits.

The golden warrior smirked.

Well, only one way to find out.

Crouching low the golden mech pinned his optics on the slight flickering in the darkness around him. The slightest gleam of metal caught in the slight moonlight that came to life with a sway of clouds. With that and nothing else in his processor he sprang.

In a flash of movement he crashed into a smaller, lighter, form bringing it down to the sand in a crash. Using mostly his weight instead of his blade he slammed it down when there was a moment of struggle and fight.

However, the familiar startled yelp that met his audios shocked him still from shifting his blade as he blinked down through the darkness to find a guilty little faceplate smiling up at him with big baby blue optics wide in shock and slight fear at the sword tip pressed into the cables of his throat.

"Half Pint?" Sunstreaker gasped in shock, growl tapering off in something of a startled click as his whole frame seized up in shock while his optic blew wide. Processor not quite believing what as laying pinned under his foot.

Bumblebee let out an audible gulp before he pulled his best sparkling grin, letting it sparkle up at the dumbstruck expression staring back at him.

"Hey there, Sunny." He gave something a nervous giggle. "Fancy seeing you here."

For a moment the pair just blinked at each other after that. The frontliner unable to processor what he was looking at and the mechling unable to move until all the shock flowed right out of Sunstreaker. Turning into a narrow glare as a growl rose up in his spark.

The little glitch! He followed them!

With a snarl that roused his brother from his recharge a few yards away Sunstreaker retracted his blades, bent down, snatched a hold of Bumblebee's chest armor, hauled him up into the air not even caring that when he held him faceplate to faceplate the little mech's feet dangled several feet off the ground, and hissed through clenched teeth at him.

" _Bumblebee_!?" Sunstreaker yelled, effectively waking every mech from their short recharge in a flinch reaction. "What in _pit_ are you doing here!?"

The others barely had a chance to fully clear their processors of recharge—let alone did Bee have a chance to come up with some kind of passable answer—before Sunstreaker spun around in a hiss fit flinging the little mech across the campsite in a flipping mess of limbs right into Ironhide's lap.

"Take him! Before I slaggin' dismantle him!" Sunny snarled as he stalked back into their camp, grabbing at his audio fins to keep himself from doing something stupid.

Like actually dismantling the stupid little mechling.

Bumblebee let out a startled huff when he found himself flung forward and then yelped a little in pain when he crashed into the unyielding metal of his guardian's armor. For a nano or two after that all were shocked silent while the mechs blinked in confusion at the little yellow mechling that sat up right kind of nervously in Ironhide's lap. He glanced around at his loving caretakers not all that sure what to do with himself as he now found himself in the very place he'd been trying to get for the last fire orns. However, he was mostly hoping he hadn't been right about this being the time Ironhide and Optimus _actually_ turned him to scrap for doing something foolish.

Sunstreaker really looked liked he wanted to as he paced around the sand hissing, cursing, and pulling at his audios while Sideswipe scrambled to his feet staring in shocked at the little mech his brother had somehow pulled from the shadows.

The question in his processor was in every other mechs too, as they all sat there staring at him for a moment longer.

How in the pit did he get here?

The answer wasn't all that hard to come up with though. Not when they each managed to get their processor around what they were looking at.

Bumblebee.

Bumblebee out here in the middle of the desert when he was suppose to be on the ship.

They told him to _STAY ON THE SHIP_!

The sneaky little glitch followed them!

Bee gave a nervous laugh when he watched Ironhide's dark vivid blue optics flash dangerously down at him. Tucking himself tightly together at his place on the massive mech's thighs, lowering his gaze as he did so.

"Hey . . . Hide. Whatcha doing?"

Suddenly, he was being hauled upward in a yank and a twist, but not by Ironhide. Though the massive mech was scrambling to his feet his cannons whirling as he started yelling at his charge plenty of things he knew if the little mech ever dared utter he'd get his vocal processor torn out by Ratchet—or maybe Chromia—for saying. That wasn't really the youngling's concern for the moment though.

No.

He was more interested in the fact that he was hanging several dozen feet of the ground by his scruff bar and was optic to optic with the most powerful of his caretakers that was currently looking like he was on the verge of strangling him.

Yeah . . . maybe this _really_ wasn't one of Bee's best thought out plans.

" _What_ in the name of _Primus_ are you doing _here_!?" Optimus all but bellowed out at him making Bee's wings drop and his antennas fold down as he lowered his optics to the flame painted armor of the Prime's chest.

He'd screwed up this time.

He wasn't stupid enough to try and make it seem like he hadn't.

He was just going to hang there quietly and hope they loved him enough to _not_ kill him for disobeying a direct order . . . again.

When he received no answer Optimus' hand tightened around his little youngling's scruff bar while he tried to rein in his anger. Anger fueled out of fear for the fact that Bumblebee was here, _here_ in the middle of the fraggin' Sea of Rust! And then the fact that he really was pissed that the mechling disobeyed him _again_!

"Answer me, Bumblebee!"

"I wanted to help." Bee murmured quietly, then suddenly found himself dropped to the ground with a heavy thump. Since he didn't have enough warning to try and catch himself so he ended up on his aft in the red dirt looking up more than a little timidly at the mech he knew would never even dream of hurting him, but at the moment really looked like he wanted to weld him to a wall and leave him there for a few vorns.

"You wanted to _help_!?" Optimus really was growling at him now his hands curled into fist at his sides, shaking from the emotions rolling through huge mech making Bee study the sand before him trying to ignore the hot flares of pain arching through him from the drop.

Yeah . . . he _really_ screwed up this time.

"Bumblebee! Why do you never fraggin' listen to anything anybot tells you!?"

Bee flinched.

Prime just said fraggin'. He **_so_** should have recorded his will chip before he left.

"I swear to Primus one of these fraggin' orns I'm gonna—"

The beeping of a comm link—a comm link that was supposed to be disabled until those in this patrol fired it up again—in all their audios cut the commander off his tirade and made him realize that he was currently yelling down at his most dear possession who was sitting in the sand his doorwings pinned painfully to his back and his antennas held down pitifully as his big baby blue optics refused to even dare to look up at him.

With a shaky breath Optimus reined in his temper realizing what he was doing. Turning away from the youngling he shook his head back and forth ignoring the fuming mechs around him as he touched the side of his audio.

 **"What is it?"** He snapped.

After a delayed reaction Prowl spoke up in an annoyed drawl. **"Let me guess, he's already there isn't he?"**

 **"You were supposed to be watching him, you pit damned glitch!"** Ironhide snarled into the comm making Bee flinch even more as he quickly looked up.

"It wasn't his fault. I snuck off when he and the others were busy!"

"You keep your damn mouth shut!" Ironhide snapped his gaze around and glared down at him. "I'll get to you in a klick!"

 **"He is good at what he has been trained to do."** Was Prowl's only reply the anger in his own tone very clear to Bumblebee's audios through the apparently finally hacked comm link.

He sighed, wringing his hands in his lap.

He had just wanted to help, damn it all! He just wanted to prove that he wasn't useless!

 **"Prowl, I'll call you back."** Optimus sighed when he looked down and found the little yellow and black mech pulling at his fingers a nervous fidgeting that was only seeming to get worse.

 **"Well now that I'm finally sure he's not dead or captured I guess I can wait."**

With that last little reminder of how much he probably worried his whole family back on the ship ringing in his audios Bee heard the comm shut off. He was once again left in the middle of a circle of mechs that loved him more than they loved life itself, but now were debating whether or not they wanted to pull his doorwings off for his damn stupidity.

The silence that stretched on for klicks had the little mech pulling so desperately at his hands it faintly had Ratchet worried he was going to hurt himself.

With an angry snort the medic walked forward, hauling him to his feet with more force than needed, but since he would _never_ hit Bee with any type of tool it was the only thing he had at the moment to curve his anger. However, when he saw the little mech cringe in pain when he was righted to his feet everything else flew right out the window and Ratchet quickly had him by the shoulders spinning him around to face him and scanning him much to Bee's protest. What the CMO found made him snarl all over again as he in turn yanked Bee up by his scruff bar and hauled him over to a large rock.

Bee protested weakly when he was forced to sit and then Ratchet crouched down in front of him pulling up his right foot and proceeded to ignore him as he pulled back a section of his armor to find the severally kinked lines and the gash that had energon leaking down his foot. And at the moment wasn't even counting let along trying to do anything about all the other slag that showed up with the scan.

Burnt doorwings.

Bent winglets.

Bruised antennas.

Ratchet hissed at the sight of it all but more so at the nasty looking tear in the back of his leg. "What the frag did you do, jump off a cliff?"

All the anger melted out of every other mech around him and soon Bee was once again surrounded though he was no longer getting growled at by anybot, but Ratchet. However, that was actually pretty normal.

"Slag, Half Pint." Sideswipe flinched at the sight of the tore wires and tubes in the young mech's leg and at the notion that they had been tossing him around while that was wrong with him.

Damn, he felt like a glitch.

That was nothing compared to how his twin, Ironhide, and Optimus felt though.

"Bee," The massive black mech sighed painfully at the sight of his youngling's energon coming to sit down next to him and lean against him, which Bee didn't protest too.

"I just slipped . . . really it's no big deal."

He decided getting chased down a rock face by a flock of angry hawks was probably for the best.

"Mute it." Ratchet snapped at him and Bee complied. Only glancing up when Optimus rested a palm atop his head with an apologetic pulse from his spark. Bee knew it was for dropping him, but the youngling also knew that he deserved the anger his family threw at him. He had disobeyed them . . . again, and managed to hurt his stupid aft when he was trying to track them in this weird place.

He sighed to himself.

He really should have thought this through better.

Like bringing food.

That would have been pretty smart.

"When did you do this?" Ratchet grumbled at him once he'd patched the severed lines and cleaned up the wound, pulling out a welding torch and going about sealing it together before putting the young mechs thin plating back on.

"Less than a few breem ago or so. I, uh, had a little trouble getting down a rock."

"Well if you hadn't of been stumbling around in the desert trying to follow us it wouldn't have happened now would it?" Ratchet seethed pushing himself upright to glare down at the little mech.

Bee looked down to the sand again.

For a moment the mechs around just stared at him before Jazz let out a breath.

"Why are ya here, Lil' Bee?"

"Because I can help . . . I wanna help."

"You were told to stay at home." Jazz pointed out with a narrow gaze that Bee could feel from behind the visor.

To that he really had no response so he simply sat there studying the sand as he whispered a pitiful. "Sorry."

"No you're not." Sunstreaker said, his arms crossed and his optics narrowed as he stood at his brother's side. "You wouldn't have come if you were sorry."

"I can help!" Bee snapped his attention up to the golden mech. "Why can't you fraggin' let me prove it too you!?"

"You don't have to prove it to us!" Sunstreaker snarled back, fear that was still swelling inside of him making him angry. Fear that he had been out here and they hadn't know it. Fear that he had been alone. Fear that Sunstreaker could have accidently killed the little mech a moment ago had one movement been different. "We _know_ , damn it all to pit! We know! We taught you remember!? But we didn't teach you so you'd go running around doing stupid slag to get yourself killed! _Damn it_ , Half Pint, why can't you just fraggin' listen!"

"Because _you_ mechs never listen!" Bee narrowed his gaze making them all pause for a moment s his voice raised to a level it never did, bouncing around the darkness. "It's always 'you're too small for this' or 'you're too young for that' or 'you can do it when you're older' or 'maybe in a few vorns'! I'm so slagging tired of being told I'm too small for everything! I'm not an idiot! I know I'm probably not gonna get any bigger! I know that! I don't need to be reminded of it every fraggin' orn. You taught me how to fight! You taught me how to not end up a smear on the wall! And I'm not stupid! I can take care of myself if you'd just give me the chance to prove it too you. I'm a solider! You made me a solider! And I'm not afraid . . . ." He took a deep breath letting his optics fall back to the sand. "I'm not afraid. So why can't you all stop being so afraid . . . I'm not gonna go anywhere. I'm no gonna get myself killed okay. I seriously feel sorry for the glitch that tries to kill me because then he's got to deal with all you."

For a moment longer they all just stared at him before they each took a deep breath.

He was right.

And they hated it with everything inside them.

Ironhide wrapped an arm tightly around his youngling pulling him into his side until Bee rested his head on the warm pulse that beat beneath his chest armor.

"Why did you have to go and grow up?" The massive mech sighed sadly into Bee's audio making the yellow and black mechling smile to himself as he nuzzled in closer to the mech that had always been there whenever he looked back.

"Had to happen sooner or later, Hide."

"I would have preferred later."

Bee smiled even wider.

"I'm with Hide." Sides sounded pretty pathetic as he dropped down beside Bumblebee to rest his head on his shoulder latching on in a tight hug that only the red twin would ever give him in public making Bee giggle that sound that they missed from when he was far smaller. "Go back to being a sparkling. Please."

"You were so much easier to take care of." Jazz nodded with a sideways grin.

"Please, I was a nascence." Bee laughed.

"You sill are a nascence." Ratchet snorted at him with a smile of his own.

Bee grinned sheepishly up at him.

"But we love ya!" Sides sang tightening his hug on his for all intensive purposes little brother.

"It's just, you were more manageable when we could just pick you up and carry you wherever we wanted." Optimus said. "And when you couldn't open a door on your own."

"Or sneak off the ship." Sunstreaker scowled trying to hide his own grin, but Bee didn't need to see it to know it was pulsing in the warriors spark. He knew him that well.

"If I remember correctly I did that back then too." Bumblebee pointed out cheekily for which he found himself getting noogied for by a laughing red frontliner.

"Little glitch," Sideswipe laughed. "Don't even bring up that orn. You scared us half to death! Coming back with _them_! I thought Ratchet and Ironhide were going to murder some mechs."

"We were." The WS and the CMO grumbled together their optics narrowing at the memory of that little stunt the mechling had pulled.

Bumblebee just laughed that light bubbly little sound of his that made every spark around him turn into a pile of goo. "See, you really should be use to this by now. I've been sneaking off, around, and to for vorns now. I'm just made for it."

"Yeah, well, ya really gotta stop." Jazz scolded him lightly.

"You're the one teaching me to be better at it." Bee pointed out.

Jazz paused as if the fact just accrued to him. "Well . . . damn."

"Wow . . . ." Sideswipe laughed. "Jazz, sometimes you are _slow_."

"Mute it." The silver mech snapped before he crossed his arms over his chest and glared into the darkness tapping his foot.

For another few klicks the bunch of them just stood there quietly in the gathering shadows until Sideswipe released Bee from his hug and glanced to Prime.

"So what now?" He questioned.

Optimus looked over his little yellow and black trouble maker who smiled innocently up at him with those big beautiful optics of his.

"If you so much as take a step out of line I will haul your foolish aft back to the ship myself. Mission be damned. Do you understand?"

Bee almost chirped with delight as he flung himself forward and into a crushing hug against his leader who chuckled at the young mech's enthusiasm that would never change no matter if he was four feet tall or ten. He was always going to be Bumblebee. All bubbly little troublesome curious mess that he was.

And there wasn't a fraggin' thing Optimus would wish to change.

Not even his knack for getting into every possible danger that could happen to him, even if he was sure it was going to make his spark stop one orn, it was just the way Bee was.

And he loved him for all that he was.

His little Bumblebee.

The son he'd always wished for.

"Yes, Optimus."

"Good." The Prime sighed. "We'll see if this time you actually do as I tell you."

Bee snickered.

Optimus' grip tightened for a moment longer before letting Bee go to let the little mech step back and smile at him. For a moment he gazed back down at him until Bee flicked an antenna and shifted a little bit.

"Hey, uh, Optimus?"

"Yes?" The Prime lifted an optic ridge down at him.

"I'm hungry."

A nano or two passed in which there was silence before Jazz groaned out behind them making Bee and Optimus both look back just in time to see the silver mech slap himself in the forehead.

"You didn't bring any energon with you did ya?"

Bumblebee gave a nervous little laugh.

Sideswipe fell back into the sand with an exasperated groan of his own.

* * *

 **Bee and his brilliant plans.**

 **Well, they're all out sand now. Time for everything bad to start happening! *grins***

 **Hope you guys liked it, and thank you for being patient with me. The end of the semester on top of other things has me pulled in eight different directions at once. But its almost done. Thank all that is powerful in this universe, another one almost over.**

 **Can't wait to see what you all have to say.**

 **See you next time! ^-^**

 **-Jaycee**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 10

Popping up over a ridge of sand with a blooming grin Bumblebee scrambled through the slipping sand to make it to the top of the dune. He slipped more than once trying to get to the top, fell on his aft more than once too, but that hardly discouraged him in his task to get to the top.

It was the highest point he'd seen in three orns beyond endless rolling dunes and blowing sand. They'd left the scattered rocks and cliffs behind meaning that for now until . . . well they got wherever they were going it was going to be a whole lot of flat sand along with the few dunes rising up now and again.

From these high points it was easier to get a good look at what lay out on the horizon. Even if that was a whole lot of nothing. There hadn't been so much as another hive hawk in the sky since he caught up with everybot.

Jazz said it was because the group of them scared most of what was left out here away. It made since when Bee thought about it. The only reason any of these creatures were still alive out here was because they had gotten good at not being seen.

That didn't mean Bumblebee didn't want to see them though.

He did.

He wanted to see it all.

Everything that there could possibly be.

This was the first real _adventure_ he'd ever had and damn if he was going to let it go to waste.

Even if he couldn't go more than ten feet before one of them called him back.

"Half Pint," Sideswipe called up at him once he reached the top of the hill of sand.

Bee bit back an exasperated sigh at the sound of his name echoing over the wind from down below him but he made no move to hurry back down. Instead he hiked up his doorwings, spread his winglets, flicked his antennas and listened. Gazing out over the sands in search of anything of interest.

It might help if he actually knew what they were looking for, but considering when he pulled out Jazz's datapad and handed it to him after he'd woken up the morning after he caught up with them and they all kind of freaked out, that might be understandable.

He could still hear Jazz's shout echoing in his audios.

* * *

 _"What do you mean you can_ read _it!?"_

 _Bumblebee had all but fallen of Ironhide's lap when the silver mech spun around. Staring down at him with blue optics blown wide behind his visor. Blinking back at him in his sprawled hold of Hide's arm while the big ebony mech had caught him before he fell onto his back._

 _With a shrug the little mech found all gazes fixed on him as he muttered. "Not all of it. Just the note at the end. The words move, it's hard to look at."_

 _"Move?" Sideswipe parroted, dark optics flicking between Bee, his brother, and Ratchet in disbelief._

 _"What does it say?" It was Optimus that ended the shouting before it could turn into much more. The towering mech staring down at the little bundle of yellow sitting in Hide's lap. With another shrug Bee told them leaving the lot of them quiet there in the morning chill blowing across the desert._

 _Bumblebee didn't know why there was a haunted look in his family's optics. Though, there was no way he could have possibly._

 _He never heard the warning Wardrums had growled at them not so very long ago._

"And do us all a favor, keep the little runt the frag out of _my_ desert."

 _Somehow, they knew they had just screwed that up._

* * *

"Half Pint!" There was a bite in Sideswipe's voice now. A warning of if Bee didn't listen he'd spend the rest of the orn tucked under the red twin's arm and not allowed to so much as step away.

So with a sigh Bee slid back down the dune. Landing with a hop and a trip he jogged back into place along the line of walking to grin up at the crimson frontliner. He knew Ironhide and Optimus were looking back at him from the front of their line. Optics looking him over to check for injuries he couldn't possibly have gotten in the forty or so nanos he climbed up there and them came back down.

He said nothing about it however.

There really was no point.

He might have snuck his way into his field trip, but that didn't mean at the slightest wrong turn Optimus wouldn't send him back to the ship. The femmes and the others were pissed at him enough as it is. One comm call from Chromia was enough to remind Bumblebee which creator of his was the one to fear the temper of.

Then there were those awful sounds in the dead of night out in the empty blackness of the dessert around them. No bot would tell him what those horrible sounds belonged to, but he knew enough to figure it was something he didn't want to get on the wrong side of.

So he did as he was told.

One because he wanted to stay, and two because despite what most around here thought he was, in fact, not stupid.

Slightly foolish, maybe.

Prone to getting himself into trouble, absolutely.

But stupid . . . no.

No . . . he _wasn't_ stupid.

"Where we goin' now?" Bee asked, striding along beside Sides. He found Sunstreaker on his other side with no surprise at all. Tucked firmly between the two huge frontliners. It was not unexpected, slightly annoying, but not unexpected.

Jazz was scouting ahead—without Bee no matter how much he whined—Optimus and Ironhide were leading along with Ratchet. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were guarding the rear. Bee was doing a whole lot running about when he could get away with it, but for the most part they were all managing to keep him somewhat between them.

That seemed to appease his caretakers so he was going along with it.

Even if he did want to go running around and see what he could find. This was better than the messes he had managed to get himself into before he caught up with them. At least now he wasn't hungry and he wasn't hurting. They were letting him explore a bit all while keeping an optic on him.

"You know we don't really know, Bee." Sideswipe shrugged. "Jazz is doing the best he can, but for the most part we're just kind of wondering."

"It would help if you could figure out what the rest of that thing said." Sunstreaker sighed.

Bee flicked a doorwing at him. "I'm sorry. It all runs together. I can't make sense of any more of it."

"Not your fault." Sunstreaker assured him.

"It would just help." Sides tacked on. "I still can't figure out how you can read it."

Neither could Bumblebee, if he was being honest, but that was far from the weirdest thing he was capable of doing so for the most part he wasn't worried about it. He did far weirder things that should probably be worried about so this one he was just letting go for now.

His spark had calmed down a little since he caught up with the rest of them. That was one less thing to worry about as well. He was rolling with it.

"We all know I'm weird." He gave another shrug, doorwings and winglets bouncing with the movement but something about the comment paused the twins for a step. Leaving them both looking down at him with those dark optics. Then suddenly Bee found himself tucked harder into Sideswipe's hip as they walked. He allowed the arm wrapped tightly around him and just grinned back at him.

This orn his differences wasn't bothering him. He was having too much fun, but if the twins wanted to hold onto him for it well he wasn't going to argue the attention.

* * *

"This is getting us nowhere." Jazz grumbled as he came stalking through the darkness late that evening. The others had already settled down and made camp giving up on following the silver mech to where he had disappeared to ahead of them this time.

They knew he would come back and before too long after dark he did. However, that did not mean he was happy when he did.

Optimus was not surprised. They'd been out here with no luck for orns. It was beginning to get more than annoying.

"Do you have a better plan?" Ironhide grumbled looking down at the smaller mech.

"No." Jazz growled, arms crossing over his chest. Glaring out into the darkness he drummed his fingers against his arm. "That's the problem."

"This wasn't much of a plan to being with." Ratchet sighed from beside Optimus, though his gaze was locked over toward the little fire that made their camp. Where Sunstreaker stood staring out into the opposite direction searching the darkness for threats. Sideswipe was leaned back against the side of his leg with Bumblebee tucked between his spread legs keeping the little mech warm from the biting night wind.

It was only when the sun fell and the cold set in that Bee stopped trying to wiggle out of a grip being kept on him since he showed up. Though, this biting cold was not something he could battle. He was still too young to regulate his own core temperature—the others could, but that didn't mean they weren't cold too, that trick only worked to a point—and while the fire helped there was nothing quite like the leached body heat he could get from the grown mechs.

That and considering neither twin was all that keen on letting him go now that he'd shown up had a little bit to do with it.

None of the officers were bothered. They were all keeping an optic on him, but he fought the twins, and Jazz most of the time, far less about keeping tabs then he did Ratchet, Optimus, and Ironhide. It had a whole lot to do with they acted like brothers while the later three took the roll of sire.

It was to be expected.

It was easier for a mechling to agree to brothers' coddling then overprotective creators'. That was simply the way of things.

Ratchet kept his gaze on them making sure Bee drank all of the ration he'd been given, taking note that there was already an empty cube sitting by his foot. Sunstreaker gave him some of his it seemed. Ratchet would have to smack him for that when he got the chance. Smack him, and then possibly hug him for being the squishy ball of warmth that he secretly was inside. At least, when it came to his brothers.

"We can't just keep wondering around out here aimlessly." Ironhide grumbled, thick arms crossed over his chest. "It was one thing when it was just us, but with Bee . . . ."

"He's not totally helpless." Jazz flicked his bright optics to Hide. "You know that."

"I do." Ironhide nodded back to him. "But I also know how quickly he can freeze to death, or get sand burn, or fall into a pit, or get ate by something, or whatever else he seems to attract."

Jazz had nothing to argue that with, especially when another echoing cry came out of the darkness making every piece of armor between them tighten as optics narrowed and gazed out into the darkness. Jazz's gaze darted to Bumblebee tucked safely in Sideswipe's arms. The little mech having scooted a little closer at the cry dancing through the night.

It was the call of a Silver Saber. Hungry and hateful. Searching the night for a meal of any kind and daring any to cross its path on the land it claimed as home.

A full grown one, especially a hungry one, would not hesitate to try and take a chunk out the smaller ones of this patrol. It would not last long, not against the weapons and skills shared between them but that did not mean it wouldn't try. They were territorial, big, and powerful. Sharing space with only their mates and cubs. The rest of the world was fair game for all they cared.

That was not something that would ever change.

This echoing cry was not the ones that had been bouncing around the desert when Bumblebee caught up with them, but it was still one to take note of. If Jazz was being honest with himself, he wasn't completely positive what it was that was making some of those awful noises. At least not the deep, resonating, cries that seemed to shake the very ground around them.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

For he had an idea. A crazy, scary idea. Though he didn't want to give it merit. He didn't want to think those things were still out here. Even if he knew that if there was one thing that would never bow in this desert to the will of anything other then its own kind it was those great beast.

Thinking the Sand Sharks were gone had been a fairy tale hope of the tribes. One that was proven wrong each time their cries broke the night or one of them broke the surface of the every flowing red sands.

Jazz had only seen one once, and it was not something he ever wished to do again.

He be perfectly content if Bee never did.

"That is not the point at the moment." Optimus said, turning his gaze away from the darkness and all he couldn't see out there. "The point is we need a plan of some sort now. Wondering around is getting us nowhere, and you can't pick up on anything."

"Wanna see if he can read any more of that thing?" Jazz lifted an optic ridge.

Ironhide rumbled low in his chest.

"Oh don't give me that." Jazz waved at him. "I don't like it either, but apparently what we don't like doesn't matter."

"He shouldn't be out here." Ironhide huffed.

"Why?" Jazz shot back. "Because some old bastard threatened us with a warning we don't understand, Trickster is up to something, he's a bad news magnet, or all of the above?"

"The last one." Ratchet rolled his shoulders, arms crossing over his chest. "Ignoring what Wardrums said is foolish."

"You can't tell me you're really scared of that old, overgrown, glitch." Jazz stared up at the yellow and red medic with a building scowl. "He's a bastard, and he's long gone."

"He called it _his_ desert." Optimus cut in before the medic and the spy could start growling at each other. Fighting between them was the last thing they needed at the moment. Tempers were running high as it was.

"And then he left." Jazz snorted. "You heard him the first time. He doesn't want anything to do with Bee. Let's not look at a gift sideways okay?"

"Trickster is up to something and you know it." Ironhide growled down at him. "We've walked right into something out here and once again Bee's in the middle of it."

"When is he ever not?" Optimus sighed, gaze flicking back to the little bundle of yellow currently poking Sunstreaker in the knees trying to get his attention while Sideswipe snickered. The golden twin was doing his best to ignore the pestering. An annoyed grumble rumbling through his engine, but from where the towering Prime stood he could see the small grin curled at the corners of his lips.

The Prime didn't know what was going to happen next. He wasn't sure where they were headed or what would be there when we found it, but he knew he would protect his family with everything inside of him. No matter if this was Trickster scheming, Megatron plotting, or something else all together.

They were going to have to find out though. No matter if they liked it or not.

* * *

Curled tightly against Ironhide's side Bumblebee laid with his head resting on a pillow made of warm plasma cannon. Content to listen to the internal systems of his adopted sire running around him. For the strong grip around him and the powerful presence at his back.

But he was not in recharge.

Instead his bright blue optics glowed through the darkness as he laid sprawled on his back staring up at the stars. The drifting clouds of the night made a strange patchwork of dark and light among the glittering specs of light burning so very far away.

Bumblebee wondered what it was like out there. How many of those bright lights had homes? How many of them gave life?

How many of them could he explore?

What would he find there if he did?

Was there worlds out there more alive than his own?

Smokey, Rider, and Hammer said so. They come home with stories and things to show him every time they returned. Tales of squishy monsters, burning planets, living plants, talking creatures. They told him stories of black holes, and cloud nebulas. Of worlds made completely of water, or lava, or dust. Of alien ecosystems and all they could hold.

Life.

That was what they spoke of.

Life out there in that vast black and cold expanse of space.

There was life out there, and one orn Bee would see it. He would see what lay beyond this dying world, clinging to life on the edge of a knife's edge.

He loved this world. He would never love anything more than his home, but his entire life here had been nothing but war and death. Those that came before him had already killed their home. Cybertron didn't have much time left. Sooner or later the last bit of energon left on this world was going to run out.

They were going to have no choice but to leave.

Everything his race had been fighting—dying—for longer than he had been alive was really all for nothing.

Because death was all that was left here.

No life of any real kind could be had here again. No matter how they tried or what they did. Not even Optimus Prime could turn back the death that had been sentenced to Cybertron.

Bumblebee knew that well.

He knew, deep down in his core, that life was gone from this world. The only chance they had at it again would be to find someplace else to call home. That is, if they could ever stop fighting and killing each other.

Laying there in the sand staring up at the twin moons hanging sad in the sky above him and all the stars that blanketed around them he let out a tired sigh. Because he didn't know if they ever would stop fighting.

He didn't know if any of his race even knew what they were fighting for anymore. Because he didn't.

He didn't understand.

The world they were fighting for was dying around them. The creatures and themselves were clinging on—as life tended to do—but sooner or later the planet around them would fail. It was part of the reason Bee wished to see it so badly.

He wanted to know his home world . . . before it was gone.

They were killing each other—brother verses brother—over a world that would probably not last another forty vorns.

Why?

Why did it start in the first place?

What could possibly be worth all this life?

Bee didn't know, and no matter how many times he'd been told the summed up and one sided version of the start of this Civil War he still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Apparently, he just wasn't made to comprehend so much death.

He didn't get it.

For he didn't think anything at all could be worth the hungry and empty cries that echoed on the wind around them. The screams of animals clinging to life in the last place they could. Animals that would fail in the end. No matter how hard they tried. Because the planet they called home had already given up.

Bee didn't know how it was he knew that. He was a little afraid to try and find out, but somewhere deep down inside he knew. It was why he couldn't close his optics and get some rest.

He was too busy trying to take it all in. To take it all in before it was gone forever. He wanted to remember. This desert, this world, this life. He didn't know why, but his spark said he needed it.

For some reason.

* * *

He must have fallen into recharge at some time or another because it was with a start that he woke from it some breems later. Darkness still held a tight grip on the landscape around him, but the first strays of morning were starting to make their way to the horizon. The moons having sunk low soon to be replaced by the burning glory of the sun.

At first he wasn't sure what had woken him. He hadn't even been dreaming that he could remember. Just the blank rest of undisturbed and exhausted recharge.

Blinking baby blue optics to rid them of the haze of rest he rolled over. Snuggling a little harder into the pillow of Ironhide's arm. The mech shifted a little in his own recharge at the movement, but did not wake. Casting his optics around after a moment Bee found Sides and Sunny tucked together not far from him and Hide. On the other side of the fire Optimus was laying quietly just a few feet from Jazz. Ratchet sat on the twins other side his dark optics staring out into the gaining morning. He must have switched places with Jazz for the watch sometime last night.

Bumblebee yawned quietly, shifting a bit to get out of Ironhide's tight hold. The big ebony mech grumbled in his recharge but did little more than that. The sound of it though along with the quiet ones of his own movement had the medic's optics flickering over to them.

Offering up a smile Bee quietly and carefully padded around the dimming fire until he was snuggled up to Ratchet's side. The medic shifted just enough to lift his arm, giving the mechling a place to wiggle into, before bringing it back down to wrap snuggly around his back.

"You're up early." Ratchet commented softly, keeping his voice low as to not wake the others even while his gaze returned out to the world around them while he kept watch. Snuggling in a bit more Bee rubbed his cheek contently into the bright mech's armor before resting it there as he too gazed out into the fading darkness.

"I'm not the twins, you know." He teased. "I don't wanna recharge all orn if given the chance."

Ratchet let out an amused snort at that. A grin pulling at his lips while those optics flickered down to Bee once more only to return to their task a moment later. "They work a lot harder than you do, little mech; you'd do well to remember that."

It was a teasing jab that made Bee snicker. Doorwings ruffling with amusement behind him earning the medic's fingers pressing in lightly at the base of the appendages to massage for a few nanos. It got him a happy purr and another snuggle.

"Yeah I know." Bee commented after a few moment when the purring came to an end. "But I'd do all you'd bots would let me. _If_ you'd let me."

"You're lucky we didn't haul your aft back to your carrier and her sisters to deal with." Ratchet snorted at him.

Bumblebee shrank a little at that, not at all confused about just how much he'd made those three femmes worry. He knew all too well that there was still a mighty lecture and yelling to be had when they eventually went home. He would admit that it was not something he was looking forward to.

He deserved it, sure, but that didn't mean he had to want it. Because he _really_ didn't.

They lapped into silence after that. The two happy to just sit there next to each other and watch the sun rise.

The thoughts that had plagued the young mech last night were not so easily banished though. Even in the warmth and safety of Ratchet's side he still found himself staring with dim optics at the world around him.

He went from giddy explorer while the sun was up, to melancholy realist when it went down. He wasn't sure if it was just the extremes of this desert pulling at the thoughts that any other time he kept beat back with all his might, or if it was something else. However, they were there all the same and this early morning they did not seem to be wanting to go away.

The downturn of his emotions must have flickered in his field because before he knew it he was pulled from his mind with a questioning pulse through Ratchet's own energy field. He leaned back at the touch of energy. Tilting his head back to find the medic's gruff faceplate staring down at him with concerned optics.

"What's the matter, Bumblebee?"

Bee didn't know how to answer him.

How was he supposed to?

How did he tell Ratchet he knew this was all pointless? That their home was dying around them and they all knew it. Even if they tried to pretend every orn that it wasn't. Even if they did their best to hide that grim truth from him.

How did he tell him or any of them that he understood far more then they gave him credit for?

That he knew this war was a losing battle just like they did. That there was no winning it. Not anymore. And Megatron blowing their home out of the sky and killing half his family was just proof of that.

Sure, they fought back.

Sure, Magnus and Roddy sent him running again. But at what cost?

How much longer would it all go on?

Until there was only him left because they all died to protect him?

Pit no.

No way in fraggin' pit.

Until their world finally did stop spinning around them?

Possibly.

Until they ran out of energon?

Most likely.

They thought he didn't realize what was happening. He knew that all too well. But he did.

He could see the rationing starting to get even worse. He saw what Hound and Trailbreaker looked back when they came back empty handed from scouting for more fuel. He knew that part of what Smokey, Rider, and Hammer were looking for out there was energon.

He knew because they told him.

Not that anybot else knew that.

They didn't know that the scouts wouldn't lie to him. That the last mission they left on, when he'd asked, they'd told. That he'd used the fact that Smokey seemed incapable of denying him anything when he made a puppy-dog face and got the information he wanted.

Up until now he'd kept all this quiet.

Pushed it to the back of his mind and let it stay back there out of the way. Hoping that if he could work hard enough and fast enough they would let him start helping for real. That he could start contributing to this family and be something more than just dead weight taking shares of food and supplies he did nothing to earn.

It wasn't working though.

They still wouldn't pass him. They still wouldn't trust him to take care of himself. They went out here to this desert looking for help and hope in something they didn't even know what was and they left him behind.

So he decided to prove that he could do what they doubted without waiting for them to get around to seeing it.

He had managed to screw that up pretty good too, but at least he was here now. That counted for something.

The problem was there was little to do out here besides think as they walked around looking for something he couldn't even begin to figure out what might be. So thinking was what he had been doing.

It wasn't proving a very good past time.

"Ratchet," He finally mumbled out slowly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." The medic supplied unhelpfully with a teasing twinkle in his optics, but when Bee didn't rise to the playful bite it slipped away and the medic straightened. "Well then, something really is the matter."

That one was not a question so Bee didn't respond. Just sat there quietly staring out at the sand before him.

"You know you can ask any of us anything, Bumblebee." Ratchet told him gently. "Now what's the matter?"

"Do you think it will ever end?"

The abruptness of it threw Ratchet for a moment. Leaving the yellow and red mech staring down at the small mechling tucked into his side for a long time, but he didn't question what it was Bumblebee meant.

He knew.

He knew all too well.

That was why with a heavy breath Ratchet too turned his gaze out to the rising sun out on the horizon instead of watching the sad glow and the haunting expression on the faceplate of a mechling far too young to wear such a look.

"I want to believe it will, Bumblebee." Ratchet finally said after a long number of empty, painful klicks. "Wars don't last forever."

"Do you think there will be anything left by then?"

Ratchet actually flinched at that one. Field spiking out with pain and many more emotions that flickered too quickly for Bee to catch hold of before the pulse of living energy from the medic wrapped him up tightly and held against his own. Bee didn't fight the feel of the energy field.

Didn't pull his away and try to hide all that was plaguing him. Instead he let his thoughts seep out into his own energy field. Letting Ratchet take it and pull it in, sort through it for himself, all while keeping hold of Bee in both the physical and emotional sense of his actual touch and the hold of his energy field.

And no matter how bad Ratchet wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell the little mech at his side that there was nothing for him to worry about and everything would be okay he found the words died on his tongue.

Refusing to be given, for they were a lie, and long ago they all swore lying to Bumblebee was something they would never do.

They hid things to protect him. Bended a few truths in an effort to take care of him.

But flat out lie to his face . . . no . . . no Ratchet couldn't do that.

He wouldn't do that.

"I don't know, Bee." He whispered, voice thick and tight with all the things both of them knew but neither wanted to say. "I don't know."

* * *

That morning as they sat out across the sands it was far more subdued. Bumblebee had known what he asked Ratchet wouldn't come without consciences. None of these mechs around him needed comms to speak privately.

They all had plenty strong enough bonds to speak through links.

So Bee was not at all surprised to find Jazz didn't scout out ahead quite so fast this morning. Instead he walked quietly at Bee side where Ironhide was keeping him. None of them said anything more, but it didn't need to be.

It was in the very air around them.

They all seemed to realize that their little mechling was not quite little enough anymore to not understand what was happening around him. He was aware. He knew.

Bumblebee hadn't meant for that truth to hurt them all as much as it seemed to, but there was nothing he could do about it.

There was nothing any of them could.

So they went on to where none of them were all that sure. Just staying together until eventually Jazz broke away with a slight stroke to the tip of one of his winglets. Then he was gone out ahead, looking for whatever it was they actually were.

When Bee thought to tip his head up and ask Hide what it was they were looking for the big ebony mech could only shrug.

"None of us are all that sure, Bee." He admitted. "Jazz thought it sounded familiar. Like something that was supposed to have been lost long ago."

"And what's that?"

"The All Spark." Ironhide shrugged.

Bumblebee went completely still. Whole frame locked up in shock as his spark suddenly went to screaming in his chest. He'd have doubled over in pain if only his frame would listen to him. Only it wasn't.

Instead he was left to stiffen up there as his plating pinned, his doorwings flared, his antennas yanked down, and his optics widened. Ironhide made it two steps before realizing something was wrong. Stopping and turning back those dark blue optics focused on him before widening slightly.

"Bumblebee?"

But the little yellow mech, lined in his sire's ebony couldn't answer.

Even if he had wanted too.

For his spark was too busy rolling in his chest. A hot, heavy, pulsing drive leaving him almost dizzy as he stood there frozen in the red world around him hardly breathing as something inside him cried out in victory.

 _That._ His spark was yelling at him. _That!_

Bee didn't have the slightest clue in all the fraggin' world what that meant, but as hands latched hold of his shoulder's and he found himself getting jarred around to face Ratchet kneeling in front of him he blinked.

Staring up into the confused and worried faceplate to find that the medic was speaking to him. Or at least trying to, but Bee couldn't hear him. There was nothing but a dull hiss of drowned out static around him. The only real sound coming from inside his spark. The bouncing, rolling, angry tugging that seemed to be trying to knock him off his feet and pull him . . . somewhere.

Ratchet was still talking, and by the look in his optics and the movement of his mouth it was starting to become rather loud, but still Bee couldn't make sense of what he was saying.

 _That!_ His spark cried out again. _It's that! That! That! Find it! Follow! That!_

He blinked again, slow and dizzy, only for the bright baby blue pools to widen at something over Ratchet's shoulder.

For a moment Bumblebee hadn't believed it. Convinced he must be seeing things—though considering it was a ghost he probably already was—but then when he blinked again it was still there.

There, just a few paces behind Ratchet on a slight up tip of a hill of sand sat Risk. Silver and blue color almost transparent and flickering in an out on the wind. But there all the same with big blue optics watching him.

He thought he might have made a sound. Some kind of choked, aborted word because suddenly the ghost was up to its clawed paws, turning, tail lashing about behind it. Then glancing over his shoulder Risk meowed. A haunted, echoing sound that punched Bumblebee right in the spark. Calling, beckoning.

Then he was off. Jumping down from the hill and running off away from them.

And Bumblebee was off after him before he'd even known he tore himself out of Ratchet's grip and sprinted off. His name echoing at his back, but he didn't stop.

Couldn't stop.

He had to catch one this time.

He had to _know_ what was happening to him.

So he ran. Chasing after the blur of silver and blue. No idea where he was going or why he was going but knowing following Risk was something that _had_ to be done.

The last thing he was expecting was for the Primus damn _ground_ to fall out from under him.

With a yelp that he would deny to the very end of his vorns echoing out like a crack of thunder over the land he plummeted into the blackness below him. And then, there was nothing.

* * *

 **And now he's in trouble.**

 **Thank you guys again for reading and reviewing. I can't wait to see what you have to say. This chapter is a little on the short side, but it was suppose to end here so that is where it did.**

 **Hope you all liked it and I'll see you next time.**

 **-Jaycee**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **Thanks for the reviews and for reading! ^-^ I adore you all and you're the reason this chapter actually got done this week.**

* * *

Chapter 11

 _"Bumblebee!"_

 _"Bee!?"_

 _"Bee?"_

 _"Bee?"_

 _"Bee . . . ."_

 _"WAKE UP!"_

Jolting upright Bumblebee was met with darkness. Empty, stretching, unimaginable darkness. And then pain.

Pain that overwhelmed the rising tide of confusion and fear to leave him letting out a low whimper and curling in on himself. Arms wrapping up tight around his middle in an effort to maybe make the aching deep inside him stop.

It doesn't help, not that he thought it would.

His inners protesting any kind of movement. Rib struts making damn sure he knew just how very much broken a few of them were. His vents labored with what was probably a few shards of stuff that wasn't supposed to be floating around no longer attached, but not at all not being where it shouldn't be.

Its right then that Bee actually _looks,_ because for some reason looking through absolute darkness seems like a good idea instead of wondering how much of his internals are broken and how he should deal with possible internal leaking seems like a good plan.

That's when his spark decides to get really still, and really cold, leaving him feeling remarkably alone as he stares up and around at the sheer vastness of the _nothing_ all around him.

Nothing, that is, apart from thick blackness.

And of course, the only logical response to that beside the very long moment of terrified silence is the almost soundless whimper he let out into the darkness.

"Hide? Opt?"

He doesn't get an answer.

He doesn't get anything.

The only answer is the emptiness swallowing him up in its chill.

* * *

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he had no idea how long he sat there staring out into the nothing around him. Slightly bruised doorwings and winglets flown wide in an attempt to hear something. Antennas standing up tall in their grooves trying to add to some kind of something.

But there is nothing.

Over the low blowing of the cold wind he is trapped in silence and darkness.

Fear twisting his already aching insides, but he didn't move. Didn't so much as try to call out again. His voice was just swallowed up by the shadows around him, and even though his spark could tell his bonds were there and unharmed when he pushed on them he didn't get an answer.

Which could only mean they were too far away to communicate with.

Which begged a very interesting question; how far did he fraggin' fall?

Where was he was also pretty high up there on his list of things-he'd-like-the-answer-to-right-now. However, he was a little too busy being a little too scared and acing to move at the moment to go about getting up just yet and going about finding out.

It didn't take too terribly long to figure out that wherever this was, or whatever it was, Ironhide and the others weren't going to magically walk out of the blackness around him if he sat there and waited. Whatever happened that hole that swallowed him up took him a long way down. He didn't actually remember hitting the ground though.

All he remembered was falling and then . . . well nothing.

He didn't hear them shout for him at all. He must have fallen too fast, and though his head was still ringing he wasn't sure if it was left over voices in his spark from them trying to call for him before he fell too far away or if it was something else. Pulsing wasn't getting him any answers however, so with a hard swallow to squish down the urge to whimper when he tried to stand he managed to get his feet under him, forcing himself upright.

It took more work than it should have. Rib struts and such putting up quite a bit of protest at being moved before they deemed it time to do so. All his internal scans and checks showed damage, some pretty bad, but nothing life threatening . . . yet.

Ratchet made sure all his repair systems ran to the best compositely possible, but that didn't mean still growing and learning systems didn't have _some_ trouble with multiple breaks and fractures along with some leaking that really needed to be stopped.

His self repair nanites were working on that though. They couldn't heal the breaks, but they could patch together the leaking parts. Stop his vents and stuff from filling up with the energon inside of him that was in the wrong places.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt though.

Because by Primus did it fraggin' hurt.

Clenching his jaw Bumblebee forced himself to stay quiet. Throwing his hands about him in search of a wall or at least something like it. He found one eventually. Towering, cold, smooth stone is what his palms were met with. Much like the ground under his feet. There was still fine sand everywhere. Rubbing against his palms and toes, but it was different from what was at the surface.

Almost . . . worn down like the stone around.

Bee figured that made since though. Whatever it was that made this hole in the ground was big—bigger then even Grimlock with the way the wind rushing about around him was any clue—and probably, somehow, was at least part of the cause of this hole.

At least, Bee figured that might be it.

He knew the Smelt—the river of lava and slag that ran under the surface of Cybertron down to the core—carved tunnels out of the world. However, those were hot. Outrider told him so. Even the long 'cooled' ones that the river of lava had turned away from to carve a new path never truly lost the heat that had once burned through them.

This place . . . it was _cold._

That ruled out it being a tunnel carved by lava. What that left though . . . .

Well, Bee didn't know. He wasn't all that sure he really wanted to find out either. Though the longer he stood there trying to clear his mind from all the ringing his audios were doing along with the alerts and checks his systems were doing it was beginning to look like he wasn't going to get much of a choice.

Not knowing what was around him and where he was one of Jazz's number one no-no's. The silver spy was always stressing to Bee the importance of being aware of what was around him. Of having multiple options and plans based on that knowledge.

 _"Never settle for one way out, Bee. Enough isn't good enough. You have to be sneaky and tricky all the time. You don't have size on your side, you can't fight your way out of a tight spot. So you have to_ clever _your way out."_

That was what Jazz had always called it; 'clever your way out'.

He said it wasn't always about being the biggest and the strongest that got a bot out of places alive so they could go home. After all, look at Jazz. Apart from the femmes there weren't many smaller than him. He was far from the biggest mech around, but he might be the most deadly among Bee's family despite that.

All because he was quick, clever, and he knew how to think his way out of places.

Jazz had never been afraid to get dirty to get what needed to be done. He was not shy about teaching Bee some of the more . . . dirty techniques either. And no bot cared. Even if Optimus didn't like it. He and Prowl both looked the other way when Jazz taught Bee how best to kill something five times his size.

He'd only put the skills to use once . . . and a part of him still shivered inside at the memory of all that sticky blue gushing down on him and the grey lifelessness that had crashed down after it.

Sideswipe had told him once that it never goes away. The first kill, he said it would haunt the back of a memory for as long as a bot lived. It wasn't a concept Bumblebee was all that much looking forward too, but so far it had proved itself correct.

Bee suddenly gave himself a hard shake. That wasn't the thought path he needed to down at the moment. He had to figure out how to get out of here.

Where ever _here_ was.

Trying to keep his breaths shallow and calm to not stress the already aching insides trying to heal inside him at the moment he cast his external sensors apart as much as they seemed to want to go. Winglets twanging painfully back at him in protest. Ignoring it for now he forced down the alerts and pings inside him to try and get some readings he could work with.

But just as he was afraid of. He didn't come back with much of anything.

The speed of the winds breezing around, the temperature, and the strange smooth nature of the stones and sand around him.

"Well," He mutter to himself. Casting his optics about the darkness, grateful for the slight glow they gave off along with the few biolights along his sides. It wasn't much but at least it gave him something as to not feel _totally_ swallowed by the darkness. "If there is a breeze it has to be coming from somewhere, right?"

He didn't get an answer, but at this point he was hardly expecting one.

Swallowing down the tired aches he kept one hand on the wall and started forward the direction the wind was blowing from. Sooner or later he'd find where it was coming from and find a way out.

At least, that was what he was hoping would happen. There wasn't much else beside that to be done though. He couldn't feel or hear anybot that normally saved him when he got into places he didn't know how to get himself out of.

So he started forward by himself because there wasn't nothing else for it. Keeping his sensors up and alert he slowly made his way along the wall. His hand making quiet scraps against the smooth stone while he let his mind wonder.

 _All Spark._

That was what Hide had said.

Bee didn't even know what that was, but it sent something inside him to humming. Spark letting go of the fear and uncertainty as it started that not so quiet pull again. This time there were no words to go with it and even if he kept looking over his shoulder, there was no ghost robo-cat of long ago watching him either.

He didn't know what happened or even how to explain it.

"What is happening to me?" He whispered softly to himself as he padded along.

Once again, no answer was given to him.

* * *

He walked for . . . joors. Down, up, around long curved turns—no angles, no sharp turns at all, though he didn't know why—along and along. Only knowing how long it had been because of the clock inside him telling him over and over again how long it had been since he'd seen his family.

He stopped regularly. Hurting and tired and needing a break, but he always kept one hand touching the wall. Afraid to lose it in the darkness. Afraid of never getting out to the sun and the stars ever again.

Only the clock in his head told him when a whole orn passed. Shivering in the cold without the supplies to light even a small flint fire he just huddled in on himself. Arms and legs pulled and wrapped up tight. Doorwings and winglets plastered against his back. Antennas pinned down into their grooves.

He had a few rations of energon in his subspace that had been given to him once he joined up with the others. Pulling one out now he felt his now almost empty tanks clench and protest the lack of fuel but he didn't down what he had. Instead he sipped lightly at the slightly dull traveling fuel.

He had no way of knowing just how long it was going to take him to find the surface and then the others again. Rationing was the smart thing to do. So he drank only about half the cube before sealing it back and stuffing it away. And with that he was left with nothing else to do but sit there in the blackness staring out around him.

For no rest would come to his tired frame. No matter how much he needed it.

He just couldn't make himself close his optics in this place.

* * *

One orn turned into two.

Two to four.

Four to eight.

And he walks. Just . . . walks.

Never transforming in an effort to save energy added onto the fact that his inside still hurt and he's pretty sure transforming would be a horrible way to discover just how not right it is in there. So he doesn't.

He just walks.

Walks on through the darkness, shivers, aches, and rations. He's gone to skipping orns now. He doesn't have much energon left. Just about a cube left. He sips at it when he stopped for the night, but never more than a few mouthfuls now.

It's not so bad though. He's hungry, but the cold of down here as settled into his struts now and its slowing all his systems down. Making him slower with them. It's not a good thing . . . it's the first stages of freezing to death actually, but at least it's meaning he's not starved to death yet.

Not much of an upside, but still sort of one.

He tried calling out—never with his voice now, his too afraid of what might answer him—every now and again. Each time he stops he focuses in on his spark and tries for the bonds that are linked to him. Each still burning brightly and contently, but not within his reach of calling to. It's there, just beyond his reach. Dangling before his optics with a teasing shadow that he can see but not touch no matter how hard he tries.

He's too far away, and might be getting farther. At this point he's not sure anymore.

He thought he was following a breeze . . . . Now he's not so sure.

Down here in this never ending blackness, one hand on the same wall he's stayed on, he's not sure of anything. The long smooth turns, steep climbs, and even steeper downturns. He's fallen and slid more than once. Scraping himself up with gritted teeth he just went on.

Orns pilling up on each other while he shivered, ached, and grew steadily hungrier. He was starting to think he was never going to get out of here or find his family ever again when a loud rumble woke him from a doze of hunger induced recharge that he was shivering through.

Tensing up at the growing noise that seemed to rumble the very ground around him Bee scrambled up from his slouch. Optics flying this way and that in the darkness trying to track the sound. He wasn't having all that much luck.

Armor tightening down against his protoform he backed further against the wall. Doorwings struggling to track the rumbling. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Resonating like thunder breaking over the horizon. Demanding to be noticed, but impossible to ever truly know the origin of. At least not until the lightening was striking and it was far too late.

Bumblebee found he'd much rather _not_ be around when whatever was causing that ground shaking rumble came around. So with one hard swallow he twisted—one hand still on the wall—and took off at a dead sprint.

If he'd known what he was going to be running head first into, later he'd wonder if maybe he wasn't better off taking his chances with the rumble.

* * *

There was only so much running energon starved systems could do. Ten orns in the darkness with less and less fuel weren't doing his already hurt systems any good. He was basically running on fumes now. Leaving that thunder like rumble behind and desperately trying to find his way out. He had kind of stopped paying all that much attention to what was around him . . . sorta, maybe . . . alright, fine, he got spooked and took off running not stopping until he quite literally crashed head first into a rather hard pillar of stone sending him crashing back to his aft cupping his now rapidly leaking nose plate.

When he was asked later how it was he almost broke his nose, he lied.

Getting his aft kicked by a vertical slab of rock was not going to do him any favors with the other believing he wasn't helpless.

Laying flat on his back clutching his now stinging face Bee cursed quietly to himself. Optics watering with coolant at the sting that he was having to rapidly blink away. Carefully prodding at the stinging plating Bee found himself pinching it shut despite the hurt, tipping his head back as he sat up, and sniffling trying to stop the flow of energon. It helped a little after a bit more sniffling. His nanites managing to catch up with the leak and stop it. Allowing Bee to tilt his head back down and lower his hands from his face.

An action that then left him sitting there on the smooth cold floor in silent shock when he realized he could . . . see.

Light . . . there was _light._

Scrambling back to his feet Bumblebee threw himself forward. Rushing into the large circular open expanse of the rock full of strange vertical, pointed, stones stretching up, up, up, to . . . a huge circular hole in the ground giving way to the view of the vast open sky above.

What had to be some 7,000 feet up.

A crushing disappointment sent Bee back to his aft with a hard plop.

Not even Grimlock could get out of this. Some of these strange vertical pillars of rock were tall but none of them were tall enough to use for climbing. Even if he could get a grip on the smooth things enough to use them.

Only a flier had a hope of making it out of this hole.

After ten orns Bumblebee finally found his way to light and that light as well as the way out it provided was completely beyond his reach.

Letting out a frustrated yell the young mech shoved himself up and stalked to the closest pillar of rock. Slamming his fist repeatedly into the stone wasn't all that productive but it did make him feel better.

Slightly.

Hitting the stone until his knuckles split Bumblebee then lightly smacked his forehead into it with a low groan from deep in his throat. Squeezing his optics shut he silently cried out for Ironhide, for Chromia, for Sides, or Sunny, or Jazz, or Optimus, or . . . anybot.

Anything.

His arms slowly found themselves curling around each other and him while he slowly sank down to the floor when there wasn't so much as a peep of an answer. Still too far away.

He was alone. Oh so very alone.

The one thing above all else in this world that Bumblebee feared.

Spark shivering in its chamber at the lack of answers he curled in on himself. Pressing up against the smooth cold stone ignoring the aches and pains all over his body in favor of opening his slightly watery optics to at least look at the light while he had the chance.

He might not be able to use it as a way out but the sight of it after so long without it was making his spark a less heavy in his chest.

He'd heard the femmes talking once. About how Bee was a creature of light, he wasn't meant for the darkness. He'd found himself agreeing with them then. He especially found himself thinking they were right, now.

Puffing out a heavy sigh Bee relaxed back against the stone. Staring out blankly in front of him. Unsure what to do and not really bothering with the effort to truly look at anything.

He was out of energon and out of time.

He had no idea what he was suppose to do now.

 _"You're over thinking this."_

Bee startled upright with a rather undignified squeak. Optics blowing wide as they searched rapidly around him until he realized where the voice was coming from. Inside but also . . . tipping his head back he found himself staring into a pair of glittering gold optics.

With another squeak he scrambled backward at a half crouch half crawl before he managed to twist around and found his feet. Leaving him staring at the lean, lanky golden and spotted in black form of a robo-cat with those impossibly bright golden optics. Lounging there at the pointed top of the pillar in a strange circled crouch that shouldn't at all have looked as comfortable as it did the slightly translucent creature was all but smirking at him while Bee stood there gaping back at him like a fish.

Finally the young yellow mech managed to clamp his jaw shut though. If only for a short time before he huffed out. "Star?"

The feline smile grew a little larger before that well known baritone echoed about in Bee's spark and sort of in his audios as well. _"Ah, there you go. Finally starting to get it, are you? I was about to think the cold had slowed your processor."_

"Well, it's slowed everything else." Bee bit back waspishly, but that only seemed to amuse the flickering in and out of sight as if made entirely of a breeze filled with dust particles cat.

Bee was not amused back.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were a figment of my imagination!"

The feline snorted. _"I am not figment. Nor am I in your imagination. Though, granted, only you can see me. Others have sight such as you and see what you are learning to, but not me. For I do not exist in this realm or the other. Not for now. I can only show myself to you like this at the moment because of where we are."_

Bumblebee stared at him dumbly for a moment before huffing out a tired whine. "That doesn't make any sense!"

Those rounded feline audios curved down slightly at the distress building in that young chest as well as on his faceplate.

Sinking down to the ground again Bee wrapped his arms tightly around himself while he gazed up at those warm, wise golden optics. "What is _happening_ to me!?"

Letting out a sigh of his own the golden robo-cat jumped down from his perch on the stone before padding over to sit down on his hunches before the mechling.

 _"You seem to think that because of me and what you see something is the matter with you."_

"I'M SEEING _GHOSTS_!?" Bumblebee all but screamed at him.

 _"Not really."_

Bee let out a groan before following backward into the ground. "And now I'm being corrected by one."

 _"I'm not a ghost, Young Spark."_

Twisting his head to the side Bee gazed back at the robo-cat sitting there before him flickering in and out of existence.

He wasn't the least bit convinced. So he said so.

That only seemed to amuse Star further though.

 _"Oh I promise you. You'll understand before too long."_

"Can't you just _tell_ me! You said once you were my friend! Well why don't you act like one!? Tell me what is happening, please!" Bee pleaded. "I wanna go home!"

Those golden optics dimmed. _"I cannot. You must learn it all for yourself, otherwise you will never be what you are meant to be. But I will say this. Stop over thinking. Just be you. I promise you, it is more than enough, Young Spark."_

Then, in a rush of hard breeze he was gone leaving Bee sitting there in the stretching rays of light from above staring down at the spot that a moment before had been filled but now was hollowly empty.

Bee wondered if it was possible to realize you had lost your mind after it had happened.

Because at this point, he was pretty sure he was crazy.

Absolutely bonkers, in fact.

However, sitting there on his aft in the middle of a hole contemplating if he really had lost his mind along the way at some point and just failed to notice the fact, wasn't getting him anywhere. So with another sigh that rattled his insides a little more then they deemed they wanted to be rattled he pushed himself back to his feet. Though after he did that he realized he had no more idea of what to do with himself now that he found some light then he did when he was looking for light.

For he still had no way out.

Tilting his head back he gazed up at the dizzy inducing distance between himself and what was apparently the surface. There was no way in pit out was going to come from that direction, and there was no more guarantee of him finding another source of light should he pick a direction from this large round carven and start walking again.

A sudden chill went up his main backstrut at the prospect of wondering back into the blackness where he could hardly see his own hand in front of his face with the glow of his optics let alone what else might be lurking out there where he couldn't see it. Maybe even just a few steps in front of him.

It was true that the noises of the night did not seem to carry down here like they had at the surface but that didn't mean the left over ring of those awful screeches in the night had left Bumblebee's audios.

They were still there, tugging at his memory with shadowy figures and things his mind supplied for the lack of a better answer. He didn't know if imagination was worse in regards to what it was that made that sound nor was he sure he wanted to find out.

He gave himself another good shake.

 _No._ He scolded himself. _This is the time to think, not cowering around like a sparkling waiting to be saved._

Yes.

There.

That was the way to look at it.

"There has to be a way out of here somehow." He went about looking around him again. "That breeze I felt likely came from here, so that idea is out now. What else could . . . sound . . . no."

He shook his head, walking around the pillars of stone as he thought.

"Sound echoes too bad down here. That's no good. I can't smell anything of importance let alone use. And then there is the fact that now I'm out of energon."

Heaving out another sigh he leaned sideways against another pillar. "That's problem number one at the moment. How do I fix that? Getting out would be a good start but it's no promise. Huh. What to do?"

Chewing on his bottom lip he stayed lent there up against the cold stone wracking his processor. Stilling coming up short he started to lean his thoughts back to Star.

"Stop over thinking . . . just be me?" Another bit of gnawing on his lip, he mumbled. "What does that even mean?"

Out of the corner of his optic a smug of black caught his attention. Leaving him pushing himself upright then to blink hard at the surface of the dark stone beside him.

Glyph.

That was a glyph.

Straightening and twisting fully he found more. Long, scribbled carvings, large, jagged, and all burnt black carved down in a spiral around the tall stone pillar. Tracing his fingers over them Bee followed the letters and signs but couldn't make out what they said.

However, they rang familiar in his memory. Familiar like the datapad he had taken from Jazz's office. With a sudden thought he reached into subspace and pulled out the pad that Jazz had given back to him after he had told them he could read a little bit of it.

Booting it up he traced his fingers over the words he had been able to make out while they danced and swayed on the screen. Letting his gaze snap back up to the stone he found that the burnt carvings of the stone had a light sway about them too.

They didn't _move_ like the ones on the screen did but they still had a slight sway to them. As much as an image burnt into stone could move that is.

Bumblebee wasn't sure if it was a play of the light or his tired optics doing it to him, but he let it go for the moment in favor of glancing back and forth between the two things trying to find symbols that looked the same.

It was defiantly the same language . . . whatever that language was.

But why was it here?

What were the odds of that?

That the datapad the others couldn't read but he could would have the same writing as stones down in the bottom of a lost hole. Quickly tossing his gaze around, he found as he narrowed his optics and focused that there were other carvings. Every few pillars there were carvings.

Darting his gaze around him he realized something.

"They're . . . _leading_ somewhere."

He could see it now. There was a pattern . . . an arrow. An arrow of carved stones in big black letter made my hands far bigger than his own. An arrow pointing . . . somewhere . . . .

"Stop over thinking, huh?" Bee said softly to himself. "Well, alright. I can do that."

And with that said he took off to the west, the direction the carved out arrow made of words he couldn't read pointed heading he didn't know where might go but somewhere deep in his spark something was telling him that was what he was suppose to be doing.

So he ran. Not even bothering with keeping track of the wall this time. He just ran.

As fast as his hungry, injured systems would let him. Using his doorwings and winglets to keep from running into the slow twists and turns. He picked a direction and tried his best to stick too it. Hurrying along in search of something he wasn't sure what was.

Trusting his spark.

Letting it tug him where it wanted to go.

Tugging left, right, and then down, down, down into the darkness. Following nothing but this growing since of _this way_ that was thumping through his entire body. Driving him forward as fast as he could manage with a frame damaged and hungry.

When he all but fell down another steep slope ending up on his knees in a large cavern light opening lit not by the light of the sun but the glowing lights of crystals he came to a complete stop.

Optics stretching wide in wonder while he stared out at the magic like blue glow of the sharp, twisting, curving, sparkling stones. All an almost mystical color of pale blue. Shining through the darkness like miniature stars trapped down here so far away from the sky.

They shone as if they really were stars that sank down from the sky. Maybe grabbed by some ancient creature. Plucked from the darkness of space to be locked away down below the dirt and stone. Left here to shine with all their glory away from the sky but no less bright because of it.

Shimmering and reflecting off each other they threw beams of dancing light in every direction. Lighting up the darkness more so then even the glimpse of sky he had gotten earlier.

It was . . . awe-inspiring.

Slowly pushing himself back up to his feet Bumblebee stumbled forward. Not sure where to look first among the glittering crystals. All of which were softly humming between themselves. A soft almost breeze like song that curled up through the air.

Making his doorwings twitch and flutter as the picked up the sound. Letting it sink into him, chasing away some of the darkness that was beginning to linger inside because of the sheer amount of time he had spent wondering down here. Leaving behind an almost tingling sensation that pushed down and curled around the pulsing ball of his spark in his chest.

He shivered once in a full body rattle then found himself calming down like he hadn't since he woke up down here. Taking a few more breaths he slowly walked into the glittering cavern of singing blue light. Watching the lights flicker and move in their own star or sun like movement of light that somehow powered themselves. Flickering and glittering and moving all around in sways of twinkles in every place and direction around him.

Some of the clear, blue crystals towered high into the circular roof, others tiny that were hardly there, bunched around the bases of the larger crystals. Both becoming their own life forms and growing there while they also leaned and used the strength and life of the older and taller ones.

Stepping around some of the taller, brooder, bright ones Bee lifted one hand to trace along the angular edges and sharp, but not pointy corners. The moment he touched one a sharp zing of warmth and life. His spark pulsed hard back at it. Equally warm and almost greeting.

It only took a few moments of tracing his fingers along the glowing warmth of the crystals for him to realize that soft, tingling sounds he was hearing that sounded like singing was . . . _actual_ singing.

Voices that were not voices humming up through the stones themselves to hum out a complicated rhythm of noise. A song made of something he'd never heard before. Voices and noise that weren't really a kind of life he had ever heard but sounds of life all the same.

After so many orns of being alone in the silence and darkness with nothing but that breeze he had been chasing hearing even a sound he'd never heard before was welcomed and held onto.

He knew what they were. He knew why they sang.

All crystals did.

He'd never actually seen one before. Considering the war was suppose to have destroyed them all. The famous, well bred, and domesticated wonder that were the ones that were born and created in Praxus were gone forever just like the city and most of the breed of bot that had come from it.

These were not those kind of crystals though. From the pictures Smokey drew him and Prowl told him about. These were wild crystals. Living somehow down here away from life. They had survived when all others like them had been killed off. Destroyed to never be seen again.

Yet here some were.

Life.

Life holding on down here where there seemed to be no hope for it at all.

He didn't know he was smiling even when his cheeks started hurting from just how broad it was. Tracing his fingers along them as they hummed and sang up through his spark. Echoing inside more then they were in his audios.

Making his doorwings twitch and flick behind him as they tried to filter through the sounds through his audios but they kept filtering back to his spark that seemed to understand far more than his audios did.

Grinning even bigger he almost snickered as he leaned fully against one of the larger stones. Staring at the shining glowing back at him.

It was then that Bumblebee understood what they were all singing in rhythm with each other at him.

"Hello to you too." He chirped happily back at them.

The singing got even louder then. Gaining a happy, swinging tone. Getting louder and brighter along with the lights they were giving off.

Letting his doorwings spread wider in an effort to hear a bit better now that he was quickly realizing how they were speaking. A moment later he realized the next question they were all saying now in various tones and echoes.

"Bumblebee," He snickered. "I'm Bumblebee, but almost everybot calls me Bee."

Another purr like chime echoed in response flowed around him. Swirling through the air like the beams of light they put off. It left him snickering as the sounds twirled around him. Optics darting while he swirled around in a slow circle watching them all twinkle.

It was then that the tune of them seemed to change. Pulling him along through the tall and short shining stones. Weaving through the sparkling reflections off each other. Lights dancing off his plating in spots and lines of dotted light. The sounds leading him forward until he found himself standing before alone tall wall of cold, dark stone. Only this one was not lit by the light of the sky too high above to ever have any hope of reaching. This one was brightened by the reflections of the singing stones.

Dark carves of burnt and blackened lettering. Long, sharp letters that seem to sway even in their etched prison of rock. Bee stood there staring up at the huge carvings only to blink hard suddenly when the two lines suddenly becomes readable.

 _There are two._

 _That darkness will rue._

Head tilting in a curious flicker of antennas. Optics flickering over the words again and again he mouthed them a few times. Shocked by the sudden spike of energy in his chest. This bright, hot flare of . . . something . . . sucker punching him deep down in his gut only to swell into his spark chamber. Not taking the calm that the singing stones around him gave him, but amplifying the brighter side of the emotion. Turning it into a torch that that Bee felt like he could almost reach inside and tug out. Let it flicker into the real world as if it would stay there on its own. As if it was . . . suppose to burn both inside of him but outside as well.

"There are two." His voice carried with it the rhythm the crystals were singing even if he didn't know it. "That the darkness will rue."

"Well now,"

Bee all but fell over in a twisting mass of shocked and tumbling movement as he spun around. Doorwings flinging up tight behind him in shock while his winglets pinned down against his back strut. Antennas caught in a half way tilt of shock and interest found himself look at and then up, up, up into two sets of red optics. One a calm pale shade while the other was a violent fire like color, shining down on him with an intensity that made his plating clamp down over his protoform.

Leaving him plastered up against the stone behind him while he craned his neck back to stare into faceplates of the _massive_ shapes that came forward out of the darkness. Their sheer size almost seeming to fill up the whole cavern itself.

One an impossibly tall, broad, bulky, sharp plated mech that had to be some type of shuttle. He out sized even Grimlock, making the beast mech look as if he might even be normal in comparison. Those fire like optics flickering with a heat that made Bee's insides shake. His dark black coloring stripped in swirls of bright gold making him both blend in and melt out of the brightened shadows of the cavern.

The other smaller but only enough so that their shoulders weren't level with each other. The dusty brown flickered in bits of black was about head level with the larger mech's shoulders. His build strong but not quite as massive as the other. That and he didn't have the huge, long, hanging wings behind his back. He had a set of rotor blades that furled and twitched from their locked together dangle behind his back. An almost curious nature about their movements as if somehow they were trying to express emotions like wings did.

The smaller mech's optics were far less burning. The paler shade of red making them easier to hold and because of it there was only a moment needed for Bee to realize there was no malice or harmful intent hidden behind that color he had for the most part learned to fear.

He was in no way as bias as some of his family had become. For a very early age Bee learned that optic shade did not dictate the nature of a creature, but that didn't mean he was foolish. He knew for the most part that those that owned that color would harm him just as soon as look at him.

That fire shade was easy to believe just might, but back to a wall of stone behind him and the other less angry like shade next to it left Bumblebee standing there a little like a circuit deer in headlights.

Unable to move even if he had wanted too as he stared up into those two sets of optics.

Then with a scratchy, rumble, almost thunder like voice that seemed to come from deep in that powerful black and gold lined chest the towering shuttle went on.

"It's been quite a long time since I heard those words."

Much to Bumblebee's surprise that made the brown and black mech chuckle. His paler optics softening with a kind of amusement Bee didn't know how to define while the bigger mech just seemed to be annoyed.

Sinking down further against the stone Bee's fingers itched for the dagger tucked away in his subspace but he knew against mechs that large in the position he was in there really was no point to being armed or not.

Besides, while they were kind of terrifying he didn't feel as if he was in danger. Especially the longer he stood there looking up into their optics. If anything they were sort of . . . familiar.

"Bumblebee," The helicopter mech rumbled in his own deep voice, tilted with that chuckle. It wasn't anywhere near the deep throat, personal thunder storm that belonged to the shuttle, it didn't rattle the very ground he was standing on, but it was still enough to demand Bee's full focus and to keep his plating tight to his protoform.

The fact that he said his name triggered something inside though. Shock lifting him off the wall and tilting his head again. Antennas flickering a curious few times before in a timid voice that absolutely did _not_ squeak like a sparkling's not matter what the amused tilt of that mech's lips questioned.

"You know my name?"

"Aye." He went on in his light chuckling. Lips tilting up into a much easier to read type of amusement. Those pale optics sparkling with a mirth with the light of which Bumblebee wasn't at all expecting. Epically when what must have been a stupid question—if the roll of those fire like optics was anything to go by—made the big shuttle mech cross his arms over his chest letting out a loud huff, steam billowing out with the action.

As if Bumblebee needed any physical frame clues for his own tiny in comparison body to realize just how laughably out sized he was here. The helicopter smacking the shuttle in the harm with a hard flick of clawed fingers and the larger cringing away with a snort of protest was the last thing Bee figured would happen from that though.

His optic ridges lifted high in response to the brown mech turning those pale optics to the fire set and glaring hard for a long moment. The larger mech seeming to relent as he looked away was equally as shocking. Then those paler red optics turned back to him. Softening once again while that amuse glint returned while he went on.

"Aye, we know who you are. Though it's no real surprise you don't remember us. You were such a little thing back then."

Bee's spark suddenly gave a hard tug. It pulling him off the wall far more than his body actually making the decision to complete that motion. Still slightly hunched into himself, unable to fully stand under the gaze of such powerful and large mechs that he should probably have started running from with all he was worth by now. He slowly stepped forward. Optics wide and wary even if inside his thoughts were rolling.

Somewhere in his spark this mech, his voice, and those optics were familiar. So despite what was probably better judgment he reached out with his spark. Letting it poke along the comics energy waves only to catch hold of this mech and realize he was already linked.

He knew him.

He knew _both_ of them!

Jaw dropping open in shock at the sheer strength and connection that burned to life suddenly in a place where a moment before there had been nothing it was at least reassuring to see that these two seem almost as equally as shocked by the feeling suddenly slamming into them as well. At least the shuttle did, the helicopter once again just looked sort of amused.

And like a puzzle piece he hadn't known would work until it did, something clicked into place.

"Dustoff." The name came out so easy even in his processor thought it was foreign to his tongue. His spark knew it.

His spark knew it well.

Those pale red optics widened just a fraction before a full smile took place over that more square then it was angular faceplate.

"Well," He smiled. "Good to know you remember something. I'm surprised, I'll admit."

The towering shuttle did not seem amused at all. Those deep optics narrowing into thin, burning slits before he rumbled.

"I warned him." Was all the colossal mech all but growled. The heavy, warning tone making Bee sink back despite himself. Even with the link there he hadn't known he had burning between him and this huge mech that only meant he could sort of feel the shift of emotion through him now.

What was simmering annoyance and slight surprise was slowly shifting into real anger.

Dustoff turned from the young yellow mech sharply. His own gaze narrowing as he glared at the other. "Wardrums,"

"I gave him _one_ task." The shuttle—Wardrums, his spark now hummed contently, somewhere inside he knew that though he didn't know how—growled back at the other. "One _simple_ instruction and look!"

Throwing his huge, clawed hand out toward Bumblebee for some reason the notion that it alone was bigger than he was, was something his processor felt the need to point out to him.

"Yes," Dustoff nodded, one thick optic ridge lifting up his forehead. "Look. Look at the little mech _reading_ it."

Wardrums wilted, if only slightly.

"Stop being an aft for about four nanos and _look_ yourself." Dustoff snorted at him.

Wardrums scowled in return. "You agreed before!"

"I still do." Dustoff replied with another roll of his optics before they softened once again when they returned to Bumblebee. "But I am not so foolish as to think there was ever any say we had. So stop being a right bastard and say hello to our nephew."

Bee was pretty sure his world just ground to a very hard halt. Optics blowing wide, doorwings flaring out, and antennas pinning down this time there was no denying that what came out of him was a squeak.

" _Nephew_!?"

Dustoff grinned.

Wardrums slapped his palm into his forehelm with a heavy groan.

* * *

 **He found them! Or they found him. However you wanna look at it.**

 **And now the _real_ problems begin.**

 **I hope you all liked it, can't wait to see what you have to say. See you next time.**

 **-Jaycee**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **I got a chapter done! *dances***

 **Hope you guys are still out there and are ready for more. If any of you don't read WOWL or aren't on the blog then you might not have known, but I am officially off of hiatus and am back!**

 **I am so very sorry I was gone so long on all of you. It wasn't what I planned when I took a break, but you guys know how life works. I want to take a minute to thank those of you who were supportive and patient in your reviews while I was gone. A few comments that got posted while I was on hiatus kinda made me not want to even bother with coming back to GG, but it was those of you who stayed your amazing selves that I love so much that made me want to get this one going again too. So thank you. I really do love you, and this chapter is for you. I'm sure you all know who you are. Have hugs because you are awesome.**

 **So buckle up because we're back on the ride. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 12

Saying he didn't understand would not do what was happening in front of him justice, but considering Bumblebee spent a great deal of his life lately completely confused he figured that this couldn't be the most radical thing that has happened in the last decacycles.

Megatron blowing up his home, killing half his family, him seeing ghosts, the imaginary cat that lived inside his head getting a somewhat real body and talking to him outside his dreams now. All that seemed like stuff that would top this, right?

Somehow hearing the word nephew fall from the lips of these two massive mechs fell a little bit short. That however, did not mean he could do more than gape up at them like a mercury deprived fish as with a low rumbling grow Wardrums spun on Dustoff. Powerful claws flexing as flight engines turned over in hardly suppressed anger.

Dustoff didn't seem the slightest bit impressed.

If anything, the snarling fit the shuttle had worked himself into just seemed to annoy the helicopter.

"Oh stop your snarling." Dustoff huffed at him. "How long do you suppose it would have taken him to guess what that link between us is? He is a youngling, Wardrums, not a fool. You would do well not to treat him as such. Besides, getting him to trust us is going to take more than just walking up behind him."

"I don't want him to trust me." Wardrums spit back at his mate making Bee flinch against the wall despite himself. "I don't want anything to do with him. He's not suppose to be here."

"Well he is," Dust turned that lighter shade of red to the darker as they narrowed into slits. "And you should work with what you have. We both knew all along what it would come to. Don't play as if it was ever any different."

"He's not _meant_ to be here!"

"Your fears do not make that true. No matter how much you would like them too."

The words drew the massive shuttle up short, and from his seeming very insignificant place near their feet—honestly, he hadn't felt this tiny in _vorns_ —he watched the massive black and gold mech pull himself back. Watched those fire red optics glitter in suppressed rage. Watched his claws flex at his sides while his engines pitched a sound that vibrated the very air around them all.

Then, Bumblebee watched him turn. Watched him bare dangerous fangs just once before with a twirl a frame that large should in no way be capable of he spun away and stalked off back into the darkness. The shadows at the back of the huge cavern swallowing up the sight of him before they did the sound, but in a manner of nanos that was gone as well. And Bee was left standing in the glittering soft light of a thousand crystals staring into the darkness after him. Trying to figure out why some piece of him felt slightly broken now.

A heavy sigh tore his optics away. Bright, baby blue orbs snapping up to find the huge tan helicopter lower his head with a slight shake.

"Six million vorns and you'd think he'd learn storming off in a fit will solve absolutely nothing." Dustoff muttered lowly to himself. "Apparently, I am mated to a great fool though. Probably the largest left in this universe. Damn, what the slag does that say about me?"

Those pale red optics lifted again then. Just when Bee was starting to think he had been forgotten and had taken to the slight notion that slipping away back into the shadows might be a smart choice he found himself pinned where he stood by a knowing kind of stare.

He remembered that gaze.

Not much of it though, if he was being honest with himself. He remembered looking up into Outrider's optics even after watching Hide slip out of sight behind them. He remembered the heat of a place he didn't want to be in. He remembered wanting to go home.

He remembered meeting Flare Up.

He remembered glowing red optics, a kind smile, and a feeling in his spark like he'd never known. He remembered explosions and then . . . well nothing else. He'd always been told they went home.

That the Rings came down and they had won.

He'd never been told about two massive mechs with burning red optics and sparks that felt eerily familiar.

He'd never been told about . . . _nephew._

For some reason that . . . that really hurt.

Those pale red optics gazed down at him. Holding something he wasn't sure what to make of. Calculating like Prowl's. Wise like Optimus'. Wary like Ratchet's could get.

"Do you really remember me, mechling?" That deep voice was pitched into a tired but interested baritone. The sound of it vibrating around Bee's spark. His spark that pulsed _I know this_ all around in a dancing swirl he wasn't sure how to make sense of at the moment.

"I . . . ." Taking a deep breath Bee nodded slowly. "I remember some of the Rings. Of a big mech Rider and Smokey took me too. I remember your name. I remember you being nice to me. I remember . . . your spark."

"Well," For a moment surprise flickered over that faceplate in a show a lifted brow and a light in his optics before a slight smile lifted his lips and slowly the mech took a few steps forward. "That makes my life considerably simpler now. That is honestly more then I hoped for. I imagine you have quite a few questions for me though. Don't you?"

"Nephew." He stumbled over the word like he hadn't since he was still in second frame. "You said _nephew_?"

"Yes." The 'copter mech couldn't help but chuckle as the closed the space between them before going down on one knee. It still left him looming over the small mech, but at least this way he could get a better look at that adorable faceplate and gleaming blue optics.

Dust forced back the swell of emotions that hit him when he watched that young face scrunch up in confusion.

 _Primus, little one, how you look just like her._

He forgave War a little more just then. For if this stung him, he knew all too well what it was doing to his beloved mate.

"Yes, I did."

"W-w-what?" Oh great, now he was stuttering. Lovely. Shaking his head hard, Bee tightened his jaw, lifted his chin, flared his doorwings, and made himself speak. "What are you talking about?"

For a moment Dustoff just stared down at him. Amused slightly, by the look of him and having to force his roter blades from responding to the show the little one put on with those wings of his.

Primus. Was no one teaching this mechling wing language? He was as readable as an open book.

Keeping the emotions from his faceplate as well as his field Dust answered. "I was under the impression I was speaking the current basic Cybertron dialect. Have they neglected to teach you even that?"

The tiny thing bristled and it took vorns upon vorns of knowing how to carefully concealing his emotions to keep Dustoff from falling over laughing. The question was a valid one though. He knew better then to have thought the Autobots would have told the young mech about himself or War.

Oh no, it was far better that they had not, but here before him stood the very thing they had all been attempting to avoid by doing just that. Here before him stood the sparkling that should not exist in the last place on this planet he should be.

Wardrums had a right to his anger, as did Dust to the swell of emotion inside himself. The difference was Dust was not going to let it control him. Oh no. He was going to find out the reason behind this and then he was going to remind some obviously foolish mechs what the price was for disobeying mechs older then the dirt they were standing on.

This was not a game, and if they were for any reason under the impression that it was . . . well, maybe the Guild was about to have to simply make itself okay with the little mech switching hands. Dust did not suffer fools.

He was too damn old for that.

"Watch it, mech." Those bright blue optics narrowed into thin slits. A fight brewing to life in that small frame but wary was there as well.

Well, at least he was smart enough to realize this was not a fight he should pick.

Dustoff decided there was no further need for pushing him.

"The word is a simple one, young one." Dust told him quietly. "Its meaning rather clear. It means you are related to us. A sparkling bound to us by energon and energy. In this case, by the spark of War's sister. Your carrier, Mercy. Though I don't suppose they ever told you any of that did they?"

And for the second time in far too soon the ground fell out from under Bumblebee's feet. Figuratively this time, granted, but the hit at the bottom hurt all the same.

* * *

He wasn't sure how they went from giant old mech inverting his perception of his life to him being pluck up, sat down on a hunk of rock, and then promptly being repaired but they did. And Bumblebee couldn't even find it in himself to protest.

Memory triggered in him that this old mech was a medic.

Seemingly a very good one at that and judging how in a manner of nanos he was repairing all the slag he'd broken in the fall and in all his stumbling around down here. Bracing and patching with simple flicks of his claws with things he pulled from his subspace. Through it all—after Dustoff let out a low curse when he realized Bee had been hurt—they had been silent.

Not normally something the little yellow youngling was all that good at being, but even he could manage it every now and again. Especially when he was staring blankly down at his lap trying to figure out the puzzle in his spark and in his processor.

"I expected you to start shouting about how I had to be lying and that you didn't believe me." When the huge medic finally spoke it nearly knocked Bee off his seat. Only Dust's sure hand—because it only took _one_ for the mech to have hold of him completely—stopping his spectacular fall on his aft. Then those baby blue optics shot upward.

Wide, confused, and with no little bit of pain.

The sight of it made the old 'copter force back a sigh. His emotions and his thoughts were not what was relevant here. Not now. He'd gotten his shock factor. He'd crossed the gap laid out by time and distance, but they weren't near done yet.

No.

Having Mercy's son before him again wasn't something the old mech had let himself think too much on over the vorns.

Oh make no mistake about it, he'd known it would happen sooner or later. The Guild, Deathtoll, this damn war, it all added up to the fact that sooner or later they would find their paths crossed with the little life Mercy had died to protect again. A piece of him wanted to, selfish as it was.

He had wanted to know this little ball of life long before he'd been dumped in his hand again by returning hunters not long ago. He'd wanted to know him since he delivered a bundle of protoform and a week spark that was barely breathing.

He'd wanted to know him since over the sounds of the little thing's carrier's tears he had fought a spark too young to keep it in this world. For reasons at the time he couldn't fathom but now as he stood here with patches sealing in place along a young bright frame he found he didn't wonder so much anymore.

Bumblebee tilted his head back to stare into those pale red optics. Trying to decide the meaning within them but finding he couldn't. This old mech was hard to read and though he knew if he pushed out a little bit his spark would likely tell him the truth he was afraid too.

"Is this something bots usually lie about?" He softly wondered. Because it was possible. It was possible that he might be being a fool, but he didn't really think so.

Dust snorted quietly with a shake of his head. "Little one, I have felt that spark before. If you wanted to know whether or not I was telling the truth all you would have to do is reach."

And yeah, that about summed it up didn't it?

"You were not so afraid of your curiosity when you were younger."

Bee shifted, uneasy under that gaze.

"I . . . I don't really know what to say."

"Well," Dustoff offered. "How about you start with a question? That is usually the best way in which to begin understanding something you do not."

"Who are you?" It was a question that meant more than the words off his tongue seemed too, but Bee could tell by the way those pale red optics flashed the much larger mech understood. He could also see it in the way he shifted his weight until he was leaning against Bee's perch beside him and no longer blocking him in.

He hadn't felt trapped under the medic's touch before, but he found he still calmed slightly when Dustoff moved his massive form to the side away from looming. Instead tilting himself to the side so Bee could pull his legs up to himself and curl.

He felt a bit like a sparkling in doing so, but he felt a little better down here in the glittering light of the crystals with his legs pulled up, his arms wrapped around them, and his chin resting on them.

"I have told you my name, but you wish for more than that yes?"

Bee watched him for a klick or two before he muttered. "You appear out of the darkness with a name and a spark I remember but haven't ever been told about. You claim you are my uncles. You claim my . . . . my . . . _carrier_ . . . ." Damn, that word was harder to get out then he thought it would be. "My . . . _birth_ one. That you knew her. That you knew me. But I don't know you, mech. _Why_?"

"Many reasons." Dustoff answered carefully, and no he had not missed the stress on _birth one,_ thank you. Though he hadn't yet decided how he needed to feel about that. "Some of which are not mine to tell, many of which you do not really want to know, and the rest of which would likely do you more hard them good. So I will settle for this and for now you are simply going to have to take it. No matter that you might not like it. I am the medic that helped bring you into this world and also the one that lost you. I am the mech that has seen too much of life to think this answer will satisfy you, but know that for now it is all that can give you. I am a mech that cares, young one, though you might not think I have any reason too. It has been quite a long time since I have seen you and I will admit while I am shocked I am glad that I have been able to see you once again. If you used that remarkable thing in your chest you would know that."

Why did he keep stressing that?

Most times bots wanted Bee to keep his spark to himself when he wasn't sure about something. Not so much his family, no they hated it when he hid, but more times than once in his life Bee had sat through the lecture of 'if you can feel them, they can feel you'. After all, Sides and Sunny were wearing Spark Dampeners for the his second test, weren't they?

Prowl was convinced that his spark would get him in trouble and everybot else seemed to listen.

Was this one of those times?

Was he digging himself any deeper in this pit by letting himself find out if this mech was telling the truth or not?

 _What did I say about overthinking?_

The familiar voice jarred him slightly, his gaze snapping around in search of that gold and silver little frame again, but this time it seemed Star was coming just from inside. If the way Dustoff seemed to search in confusion for what he was looking for was any clue that is.

 _Back again, huh?_ He mentally snarled, all while trying to pull himself back together and try and look like he wasn't currently having a conversation with imaginary cats that lived inside his head.

 _Oh, Young Spark._ Star chuckled. _I told you before. I have never left._

 _Yeah, totally reassuring._

Rolling his optics he tried to push it all away while turning his focus fully to Dustoff. Carefully at first but then with a little more confidence he reached across the cosmic energy plains before then and went to looking.

Familiar.

That was the first thing he noticed, then warmth. Wisdom. _Age._ Like, seriously, this mech was _old._

It was a hard thing to describe but brushing around that spark he could feel layers upon layers of life. Eons of existence, many of which had been everything but easy. There was strength though. A care for life around him that reminded Bee of Ratchet so much it hurt.

There was no darkness though. None of the anger or hatred he had been afraid he might actually find swimming in that pool of life. There was truth as well. A burning honesty for all things in life.

Yeah.

Totally a medic.

Then the old spark reached back. As carefully as he had with a touch of wonder swimming under it that honestly Bee isn't quite sure what to make of and then he's being pulled in. To a warm welcome the likes of which he never would have expected, and he settled.

Almost melts really.

Sinking down as the sheer _tired_ he had been pushing away for orns down here caught up with him. He hadn't so much as closed his optics in orns but there, perched on a rock leaning against this huge mech's side he found himself relaxing.

No longer afraid of what might step from the shadows any moment.

"I've waited a long time to see you again, little one." Dustoff told him softly. Lifting an arm to allow the little ball of yellow to curl into his side in a way he never thought he'd get to know.

Bee murmured quietly back at him. Snuggling in as he yawned.

"How did you even get down here, little one?"

"Fell in a hole." Bee admitted.

"And how long ago was that?"

"About eight orns."

"Well then, rest for now. We will figure out what to do with you awake."

* * *

That is how Wardrums returns to find them later.

Dustoff leant back in a comfortable sprawl against the crystal covered wall with a tiny ball of yellow curled tightly into the warmth of his plating. Dust was under no misconceptions that his prickly mate would come back, and if anything, it was worth the flash of surprise in those deep red optics when he did stalk from the shadows and find this before him.

However, that surprise shuts down almost as quickly as it arrived as Dust watched the larger mech stalk closer. Fire gaze locked on that little ball of yellow before he growled. "What did you tell him?"

"Little to nothing." He replied.

The dismissive snort was not surprising and Dust refused to rise to the bait. Guilt and anger will make many a mech do many a things they wouldn't do otherwise and despite there being murder in War's optics—not that that is all that much of a new concept—the old tan medic is under no false pretenses that any of that anger will come this way.

Oh no.

War might be mean and cruel when the little mech wakes up, but the full force of his mate's anger is going to be directed to the mechs more capable of not shattering under it. For the instructions, had been relatively simple. More so then most others the old Knight had given in his time.

Keep him out of this desert.

For there were too many ghosts that lay among it.

And what did those slaggin' fools do?

Bring him out in the middle of it while War and Dust are out here attempting to retrace their footsteps to keep Megatron away from something he had no business finding. There could not possibly be a worst time for the young mech to be out here among these sands. Which, probably, knowing Trickster was exactly why he was here.

However, War couldn't punch Trickster. Optimus Prime, though, he War could punch. And he was going to. Very, _very_ hard.

"You told him _nothing_ and yet he curls up to you like a sparkling?" War growled out, finishing his stalk forward until he is just paces in front of them. Gaze locked down on the living memory laying before him.

Dust didn't need to be linked to him through their bonds to feel the emotions flare up and then get shoved back down. However, he was just as hurt by them.

"Scared and tired younglings tend to do that when they find something they think won't hurt them. With a spark like his all he has to do is poke a bit to see I mean no harm. It didn't take much convincing."

"You told him what he was to us." War shot back. "Did you tell him all of it?"

"I told him enough to calm him down so I could look him over. He was quite beat up, he's been down here by himself for orns."

Looking away with a snarl War cycled his powerful engines. "Damn Prince. I'm gonna kill that fool."

"That might be a bit counterproductive."

"Says you."

"Yes, says me." Dust lifted an optic ridge at him. "The one of us that apparently has to keep reminding you how things have to work for all this."

"Obeying Trickster was never something you were all that fond of."

"I'll admit I fear the outcome of anything else."

War swung on him then. With enough fire burning behind his optics that Dustoff couldn't help the slight finch back. For that snarl curling his dark lips and showing off a flash of fangs was nothing to joke at.

This was the anger that War had once leveled worlds with, and sparkmate or not the old medic was not foolish enough to think that temper couldn't vent in his direction. Not after all of this.

"You _know_ the outcome of all this!" He hollered, the sound of which startling the youngling awake with a jar of movement and a clamp down of plating. Dust made no move to stop the scramble of movement. Instead he simply lifted his arm and let the slightly disoriented little thing wobble to his feet. Bright gaze wide open and glance every direction before that ghost of a gaze settled on the huge mass of snarling mech before them.

Even perched up on a rock formation that put him at Dust's hip height he still had to tilt his head all the way back to gaze into Wardrums' optics. The fire pools of which had banked slightly when the little one came awake. His snarl fading away in favor of the weighing those dark orbs took to doing.

Sure, he'd looked at the little mech the first time. He'd looked and saw everything he'd ever failed at and in turn fled from it because . . . it hurt too much and even now he didn't see anything different.

He looked down at a too small yellow thing with impossibly blue optics and didn't see him. Instead, War saw the ghost of the one that had died to give him life. That had died because War wasn't strong enough.

He did not see Bumblebee. He saw Mercy.

And a part of him hated the mechling for it, but not as much as he hated himself.

Bumblebee though, he didn't know this. He hadn't the slightest clue in the universe that he stood in the shadow of a ghost. All he knew was the massive mech from before had come back, he was still remarkably in one piece, and that he still didn't have much of an idea what was going on around here right now.

However, he'd like to be getting on with finding that out.

There was just a little too much tense silence stretched between the three of them at the moment though for that to happen. For once, Bee didn't know how to break this silence. He didn't know how to pull up a grin and set things to right.

He felt too wrong footed to do more than stand there and stare no matter the fact that that was getting absolutely nothing done.

What did one say to this, after all?

He knew Dustoff wasn't lying. The truth of that was written in the feeling of his spark, but that didn't mean Bee understood any better. It didn't mean he knew what to do.

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself, War?" Dustoff's strong voice yanked Bee's attention to the side with a flutter of antennas and a twitch of doorwings. The complicated, scattered emotions inside of him flashing for all the world to see in the way they moved.

He missed the way the two long, strong wings draped down Wardrums' back twitched in response to those movements. He wouldn't have understood the response if he had seen it though so Dustoff figured that was for the best. War got his frame back under his tight control a few moments later so for now it all be brushed aside.

Really though, he was going to have a serious talk with whatever Autobot it was that was failing to teach this youngling basic frame language. There was openness and then there was too much. This one broadcasted himself for the world to see. It was something that would very likely get him hurt one orn and the old medic was going to do something about it if he was able.

"Are you really lecturing me about manners right now?" Was what the massive shuttle settled for. For it was neither fight or flight. Considering right now he wasn't sure which he should be doing he figured that was the best option.

For part of him wanted to turn around, leave the mechling, and never look back. Say it wasn't his problem. Say he knew what would happen and he didn't want to stick around to watch the flame burn out. Say he was done suffering ghosts.

There was another part of him though. The part deep down inside his spark, hidden in places he wanted to pretend didn't exist that wanted to reach out, take hold, and break. Out of anger or out of spite he didn't know. Blame tasted rank on the back of his tongue and though he swallowed against it, it didn't leave.

 _She's gone because of you._ He wanted to hiss the words down at that soft, round, silver faceplate. One he remembered at a time had been yellow but that time and growing armor had shifted to a soft silver. He was still that obnoxious shade of sun though. The one that he had only ever thought fit his little sister.

To see it again, sharing those same damn optics.

He tried to keep his fist from curling against his palms but was less then successful. He at least managed to keep his weapons systems from cycling online. So hey, points for trying.

He wanted to _blame._ To rage, and scream, and _hurt_ like he had been hurting for the last fifty something vorns. He wanted to change it. To go back and erase choices he had no right to change.

He'd do it too.

If it would bring his lost sister back.

She would hate him for it, but he would do it anyway.

Because what was this mechling that had no right to exist in comparison to her? What was the _son_ of Deathtoll to this world?

He was a bastard runt.

He should have never even been sparked.

Had War had his way long ago, he would have never even been born.

He shouldn't _be here_!

He had no right to her optics, or her color, or her life.

No right at all.

Forcing back the bellows of rage the towering shuttle let his gaze burn down into that tiny, pathetic little scrap of plating until the mechling cowed under the heat of it. Doorwings flattening down against his back and antennas pinning into their grooves. Only when the brightness of him dulled to a level in which War didn't want to snap him in half did he growl out before Dustoff could snark back at him.

"I am Wardrums." His resonating voice bouncing round the crystal cavern with such a force that the crystals themselves went quiet. Quelled under the force of something far more powerful than they could ever hope to be.

Good.

They would do well to remember who planted them here millions of vorns ago. They would do well to remember who gave them their song to sing and protect so long ago.

Bee swallowed hard.

Shrinking down into himself under force of that heated stare and powerful voice. Feet shuffling on his perch while he tried to quell the sudden unease blooming in his spark. He needed to at least be able to introduce himself, shouldn't he? He could manage that surly.

"I'm—"

"I know who you are, _runt_." Wardrums cut him off with a deep snarl. The flash of fangs and the pitch of his engine making Bee scramble back a few more steps on his perch.

He grew up in the middle of a war that was destroying the very planet. He played at the feet of fraggin giant beast mechs when he was still hardly bigger than their toes and has never thought anything of it. He's looked death in the face more times than any of his family wanted to think about and kept going.

But this, this _scared_ him.

For a reason Bee can't even grasp.

"War," The warning in Dustoff's tone went unanswered as the shuttle stalked forward to close the distance between himself and the tiny mech.

"I know you do not belong here." Finishing with the whirl of his flight turbines he hissed through clenched fangs down to the tiny thing shrunk down before him. Another mech might have felt pity at the look in those large optics, but Wardrums was not another mech. He had not survived the universe thus far by being soft sparked. "So you're going to tell me why the frag you are, runt."

"I-I-I—" Bumblebee hadn't stuttered since he was a sparkling, but considering right about now he felt just about as small as one he figured that might be a little bit justified. He hated it, but it might be a little. "Fell." He slipped out before swallowing hard and trying for real words. "I fell."

"You fell?" The huge shuttle rumbled with a roll of his optics. "Well how convenient. Of all the slaggin' place on this damned planet you could trip into it had to be _here_ , yes, because that is what the slag my life seems to be. Damn it. The Prime really is helpless."

At that, Bee bristled.

Because, umm, no, his family did not get talked about like that thank you very much.

"Hey!" He snapped, courage and maybe a tad too much foolishness surging up within him with a flaring and stiffening of his doorwings. Plating tightened all over him in that weird mix between flare and tuck that a frame did when it was trying to be brave even if it knew it shouldn't be. "Don't call him that!"

The two huge mechs paused. Dust in the middle of reaching out to smack his mate while War was still glaring down. Two sets of red optics returning to him in a snap he refused to shrink back from.

"What did you say?" The shuttle drawled.

"Optimus isn't foolish, you have no right to say that!"

They stared at him again at that. Some kind of mix between bewilderment and anger before Dust let out a heavy groan. Looking away with a roll of his optics, a shake of his head, and a sigh. War on the other hand arched a brow and sneered down at the little mech.

"Not the brightest crystal in the cave are ya?"

Bee's doorwings flared out as wide as they would go. "What the slag do you know!?"

"More than you have any idea." War growled back. "About far more than just the latest Prime. Considering I've lived to see them all so far I should hope so. And he is a fool, no matter if you see it or not, for I warned him and he didn't listen. But I owe you no more of an explanation. You want more of those you beg them off of Dustoff. I'll not be playing sparkling sitter. Do I make myself clear, runt?"

Wings dropping slightly behind his back in a mix of confusion and he wasn't sure what else Bee let out a sound that matched the emotion. It only got him scoffed at again though before the huge shuttle turned away again.

"Come then. Seems we will have to find your blundering caretakers and return you to them. Primus knows I'm not going to get anything accomplished until we do."

With that he was gone.

The shadows at the edge of the cavern eating him up like starved creatures. Leaving Bee once again standing blankly at Dustoff's side. Blinking a few times because at this point he didn't know what else to do he slowly turned his attention back up to the old helicopter in time to see the pinched expression on that aged faceplate slip away. Replaced by a resigned frustration the huge mech simply offered up a hand to the youngling along with a few quiet words.

"Best come along then, mechling. Testing his patience won't do you any favors. You won't be harmed, you have my word. The two of us are many things, and have done horrible ones, but you have nothing to fear. Not from us."

And Bee followed, because really, at this point what choice did he have? It was try and run for it and spend the rest of what would likely be his very short life stumbling around in the darkness trying to find the way out or take his chances with the tempers of a mech that didn't want to look at him and one that had fixed him almost as soon as he had.

Maybe neither of those were all that great of options, but it wasn't like he had all that many to play with at this point.

* * *

A few breams later, after walking what seemed like endless miles at the heels of an ancient medic Bee found himself once again perched on a stone, but this time it is with a scrap of broken mineral in his hands.

Dust told him it was an energon crystal. Unrefined, bitter, and hard to digest but edible and for now all they had to offer him. So listening to the gnawing hunger in his tanks he started nibbling at it. Not quite sure what to expect but surprised all the same for it.

Bitter wasn't quite a good enough word. He'd had bitter things before. Stuff Wheeljack or Sideswipe had made in their ever growing attempts at different kinds of fuel. Stuff Bee probably should not have eaten and got yelled at later for doing, but he'd been curious and took bites anyway.

Pure energon crystals though were something altogether different. It tasted like energon, sorta, in a way he supposed. It just didn't taste like anything he was use to.

Cold, sour, and with a weird pop like aftertaste. It crackled in his mouth as he chewed on and while it made his optics water as he swallowed it did quell the hunger in his tanks after a while. Dustoff told him as they walked that he couldn't have much of it at a time. Considering he'd never had them before his tanks would rebel against too much and he'd just end up purging it all back up.

He could nibble though, and nibble he did.

Watching out in front of him where Wardrums stood with his back to him running his hand along dark cave walls. This second of caverns was lighter then where they'd been before, even the place with all the singing crystals.

Bumblebee was assuming that meant the where headed to the surface but he wasn't sure. He also hadn't managed to get much of an answer either. Dustoff had spoken to him when questioned quietly but War wouldn't so much as look at him.

Despite the coldness that caused in his chest Bee wasn't quite sure what to make of that either. He huge mech hadn't tried to hurt him, but that apparently didn't mean he had any plans of being nice to him.

He wasn't yet sure how he felt about that. One hand, hey he wasn't wondering around scared and alone anymore. On the other, he wasn't too sure any of this was a good idea. He was pretty much positive most of his family would be yelling at his quite loudly that it wasn't if they could see him right now. It wasn't that he thought either of them would hurt him. Maybe he should, because they were big, scary, and everything he had ever been taught to fear. Trouble with that though was his spark wouldn't let him.

It trusted them.

 _Wanted_ to be near them.

Said that they were harmless to him.

Dustoff's spark was enough proof of that. Old but warm and caring in a way that felt so much like Ratchet it made Bee's spark hurt. Wardrums' wouldn't reach for him though and Bee was a lot of things but he wasn't stupid. He knew better then to try for that one.

All it took was one long knowing look from the big medic when he apparently looked like he was going to try it to have him stepping back and pulling it all back up. Reining in his spark in ways he never liked doing to keep it and his curiosity away from Wardrums.

More so then anything else because of what the 'copter mech quietly told him as they walked along. "There will be a time for that mechling, but this isn't it. Not yet."

Honestly, at this point, Bumblebee couldn't see the huge shuttle ever so much as looking at him with less than disdain. Letting him have a feel of his spark seemed so far out of reach it was comical. You know, if Bee felt like laughing about the weird ache that settled in his chest when those fire optics gazed down at him in contempt.

A rather bitter bite of crystal had Bee squeezing his optics shut as he swallowed it down. Taking his attention from the big mechs before him he blinked the surge of coolant the sour brought away in favor or glancing around at the tall black stone walls all around. With the light filtering in from whatever direction it was that it came from he let his optics scale the walls.

There were no more strangely moving words carved into walls. They'd left the singing crystals behind too. However, the words from before still taunted around in his mind. They made no sense yet they tugged at his spark. Kind of like an old forgotten lullaby. Where the words had long ago faded but you could still manage to hum a few of them if you thought hard enough.

Absentmindedly, Bee found himself humming that tune the crystals sang. The words dancing around in his chest searching for more but not able to find it. Rocking back and forth to the tune he nibbled while swinging his feet.

"If you don't knock that off I'm going to make sure you never make a sound again, runt."

Startled Bee nearly dropped his snack, head snapping up to find those fire optics glaring at him once again. His doorwings dropped without consent at that burning look

"Do I make myself clear?" Wardrums rumbled again.

Sinking down under that gaze Bee ducked his head. Lowering his optics away from that searing look he nodded a little bit. "Sorry."

Even if he didn't know what he did wrong.

Wardrums huffed, before turning back to the wall. "Just stop being so fraggin' annoying, would you?"

"Oh, stop being an aft, War. He's just a mechling."

"He is a little fool and the sooner we get rid of him the better."

"You know, _he_ is sitting right here!"

"Exactly." War snarled, those optics of his blazing as he swung back. The one hand he had lifted to place against the cold stone walls scrapping long cuts into the dark rock. Those long, powerful wings draped down his back bristling in a way not doorwings were capable of. Shuffling almost like some kind of strange feathers as the thick individual panels and armor that made them up clicked against each other in a shiver of anger.

Logically—if Bee ever bothered with things like that very often—it should have been warning enough to shut him up again. It should have made him sit back down and keep his mouth shut. There was a problem with that notion though. See somewhere been having hive hawks trying and pull out his antennas, falling down a cliff, getting yelled at for following his family out into the desert, falling down another hole, spending a decacycle wondering around hungry and hurt in the dark, getting himself found by these two big grumpy sparkmates, and then getting yelled out again for so much as breathing since then Bumblebee's level of sit-back-be-quiet-and-do-as-you're-told kinda bottomed out.

As in, no sir, not happening anymore.

For vorns and vorns after this, he'll not have a clue where it came from. It will take a whole lot of life as well as a whole lot of death for him to realize what and who the surge of emotion swirling up among his own came from. Why the hard bite of frustration and fear inside him flared together with something that tasted too much like a grudge older then he was to be anything else. Let alone why it brought these specific words to his tongue.

"Oh, come off it, you old bastard!" Bee bit back, shoving himself upright with a flare of plating and a flash of his field. Striking out across the space between them harder than any physical hit he'd ever be able to deliver to a mech as big as Wardrums. Burning with a feeling he both knew and then didn't he let it crash headlong into the huge shuttle. Awed more than a little bit when the black and gold mech stumbled back from it. Those fire optics blowing wide as he snarled out. "You can't hide from this! It's happening no matter if you like it or not!"

He didn't see the flash of energy crackle through his energy field. He didn't see the flash of gold that lit through his bright blue optics for the quickest of nanos. He didn't know the echo of the voice that used his, and he in no way remembered it.

All he knew is he about fell over after that bout left him panting there on his little rock perch. Optics widening as the words he hissed caught up with his processor leaving him more or less stumbling back with a hand snapped over his mouth.

Because what the pit was that?

 _Sorry, Young Spark._

Bee went still. _Oh you have_ got _to be joking._ Doorwings twitching in confusion on his back he turned his focus inward. _That was_ you _!?_

 _Young Spark—_

 _No!_ Bee hissed, optics narrowing. Unknowingly spinning away from the two sets of wide red optics. Hands lifted to clench his head, shaking himself hard. _H-how did you do that!? Why!?_

 _Young Spark—_

 _NO!_ His doorwings flared wide, energy field cackling. _NO! No, no, no, no, no! Shut up! You don't get to do slag like that!_

"GO AWAY!" The last bit came out in an audible snarl. Shivering from his head to his toes, panting hard through straining vets. He shook, bright yellow plating creaking against his protoform with the quivers running through him.

"Bumblebee?"

With a yelp he jumped nearly as high as Dustoff was tall in a flailing whirl of limbs that ended with him landing hard on his aft on the ground. The short fall from his rocky perch drew a pained grunt from him but with all the panting it was hard to make it out. Which he was more than slightly glad of when he finally looked up and found himself staring up at Dust's crouched form.

The big medic had one hand outstretched. As if he'd been halfway through the motion of catching him with a look on his faceplate Bee couldn't quite place. It was . . . _strained_ in a way. A pinch between his optics and a hard pull to the corners of his mouth.

Crouched there before him he looked a whole lot less gigantic, but the even bigger shuttle behind him still seemed just as big as ever. Especially now, when Bee found himself sprawled out on the ground and Wardrums was closer than he ever had been before. Bent over the back of his mate staring down at him.

"Are you alright, mechling?" Dustoff's voice yanked Bee's attention back to his faceplate. Even if all he could do was blink for a very long stale klick until it clicked to him that he should probably get up.

Another slightly frantic scramble of limbs and Bee rocked to his feet. The motion causing the other two mechs to step away. Dustoff pushing himself back his feet with a graceful sway of movement nothing that big should be able to pull off. He did it though, rather well in fact, for never taking his gaze away from Bee where he tried to unruffle himself there at their feet.

"I-I-I-Yes!"

Two sets of deep red narrowed slightly and he scrambled again.

 _No! No! No! They can't know! No one can know!_ The rolling thought screaming through every inch of him from his twisting had him forcing back a sudden swell of tears. Oddly enough, rather it was that screaming from earlier or this now, Star seemed to have vanish. He couldn't seem to let out the relived breath he wanted too just yet though.

"I'm fine!" He rushed, hands lifted in almost surrender as he gazed fearfully up the distance between himself and those shifting expressions. _Please._ He whined to himself. _Please don't look at me like that._

"I'm fine. Peachy. Really, completely awesome. Sorry, just kinda fell. You know. Like before. Clumsy me. Always tripping over my own feet."

 _Please believe me. Please! Don't notice . . . ._

For too long a klick neither mech said anything. They simply stared at him. Then, slowly, they shifted just enough to turn their gazes to each other. A conversation Bee couldn't begin to try and grasp at flashing between that look in less than a nano before shifting back to him.

"Come runt, we will take you home." And for a nano there, as the towering mech black and gold turned away from him Bee could have sworn he saw something like . . . _worry_ flash through his optics.

* * *

 **And hows that for your first chapter back? I liked it that's for sure. We finally get to see more of Wardrums and Dustoff even if they wanted to be grumpy and hard to work with for this whole chapter. You have to forgive them though, they weren't planning on finding Bee wondering around down there in the dark.**

 **Anyway, I hope you lovely readers are all still out there and are excited about GG being back. I can't wait to hear from you and see what you thought about Bee being back. I still haven't really worked out my new update schedule yet but so far both stories are working so keep your eyes open on Sundays. That will be when I post.**

 **I hope you liked it! Let me know here or on the blog if you have any questions or want to poke the characters.**

 **-Jaycee**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Thanks for the reviews guys. I love you all. Enjoy. ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 13

The low whirling of Ironhide's cannons had become a near constant over the last eight orns. Not that any of the other mechs really blamed him for it though. Sunstreaker hadn't recalled his blades since the ground fell out from under too little yellow feet just as Sideswipe hadn't. Jazz was twirling one of his throwing knifes around his fingers. Ratchet kept scanning every fraggin' six klicks.

And Optimus, well, the rifle still smoking in his hand had had a full charge a few orns ago. It didn't anymore.

Sometimes it was a little comical how often others seemed to forget that Ironhide wasn't the only itchy trigger among the command staff of the Autobots when his emotions were riled. There was _some_ relation between the Prime and his older brother after all. Megatron—back when he went by another name— _had_ been the one that raised the younger prince after all. He was bound to have picked up a few of his less then marketable traits.

Not that he went about admitting to it all that often. It wasn't something the mighty Prime could in no way hide form those he'd known almost his whole life though. For these were the mechs—apart from the twins—that hand been at his side before the world fell apart around them under his brother's anger. These were the mechs that had stayed at his side through all the pit that had come to the next.

That had taken the brunt of so much of it because they had refused to leave that place. They were the mechs that had been beside him fifty vorns ago when they found their little bundle of trouble in the middle of a desolate battlefield.

It was all of that that let the towering red and blue mech fume as he was doing now. Standing on a ridge of sand squinting out into the biting wind and sun reaching out with a gift he very rarely had the chance to use anymore.

What he had inherited with coding was not the same as what lived inside Bumblebee. His ability to feel a tad bit more than what others did and call it a gift was nowhere near the level at which Bumblebee had been able to do when he still fit in their palms.

Now, there was no comparison to it at all.

The little yellow mech had him hopelessly out matched in the area of reaching out with his spark. So there was the very obvious problem. He was reaching with as much as he was able, and getting _nothing_ in return.

There was no bright plus coming back at him. No bubbly warmth and happy shine he had grown so use to over the last handful of vorns.

Bee had simply vanished. Under a swirl of red sand and shifting stone. The sink hole closing up after him leaving them digging at nothing but sand for far too long. It had taken Jazz's furious hissing that they finally realizing going in after him wasn't going to work. They were simply going to have a find the tunnel outlet and get him out that way. After they found him.

If they could.

With an echoing growl rolling through his chest, Optimus shook the thought away. Optics narrowing even more against the wind and the emotions in his spark.

They _would_ find him.

They _would._

It didn't matter that there were thousands upon thousands of miles of uncharted caves and caverns hidden under the desert sands. Ranging from the every changing mazes the Sand Sharks carved to the swelling heat of the tunnels The Smelt carved.

To put it simply they were looking for a gain of sand among all that that shifted around them, and it was taking them too long.

Far, far too long.

Nine orns now, as the sun rose high in the sky above him. Nine orns since they'd lost him.

Optimus knew in his spark that the little mech was still breathing. They'd all have known it if he wasn't, but that didn't mean he was safe. It was no guarantee that he would stay alive for very long. Not with every bream they didn't find him his odds sank faster and faster.

Hand tightening around the hilt of the blaster clutched in his hand the towering Prime turned east. Looking through the rising morning and the direction they had been walking for too long now.

He knew nothing about the Sea of Rust.

At least, not anything about it that really mattered.

Not enough to know where to go or how things worked. In fact, the only ones of them here that did right now were Ironhide and Jazz. Which was why they were the ones calling the shots at the moment.

No matter how much not being in control of what was happening around him was driving him insane.

 _The world won't ever be what you want it to be, Orion. It's time to suck it up and accept that._

The Prime flinched at the remembered words and the voice of the mech they belonged to. Back from a time he still talked to his brother. Back from a time he was still someone else.

Shaking his head hard he squeezed his optics shut to dismiss the thoughts. He didn't need them right now. He had too much else to worry about.

 _Besides._ He grumbled to himself. _You're the_ cause _of all this,_ Megatronus.

"Optimus," The familiar shared voice calling up the dunes pulled Optimus attention making him look back over his shoulder to find Sideswipe and Sunstreaker standing at the base of the hill of sand. Turning toward them he headed down to meet them. Knowing that if the pair had left Ratchet's side then Hide and Jazz must have found something.

Reaching the bottom of the dune he flicked his optics over the tired, stressed silver faceplates of the twins before giving them a nod and motioning forward. They fell in beside him explaining as they walked.

"Jazz says it's a Sand Shark tunnel. There is apparently nothing else it could be." Sideswipe started as they walked.

"It's why the paths keep shifting." Sunstreaker added in. "He isn't quite sure how close it is, but Hide says at least one air hole has to be around here close."

"Jazz says we find that we can get in."

"Problem with that is, their thousands of feet deep."

"Sharks don't like unexpected visitors."

Optimus let out a hard breath as they neared where the others were working. "Any change in the comms?"

"No." Sunstreaker shook his head. "Storms still blocking the signal, but it can't keep up for much longer."

"Before long we'll be able to get a call though."

"We'll have to." Optimus growled out. "Our fliers are the only chance we've got of getting down there."

* * *

His head was still spinning more then he wanted to admit, but at least trailing after Dustoff didn't take all that much effort. Wardrums had stalked ahead after he spoke to him. Engines rumbling sounds that Bumblebee could only interpreted as frustration and anger.

For a little while he'd stalked out there in front of them Bee had been watching the slightest twitches his long, broad, strong wings were doing from where they lay against his huge dark back.

He hadn't the slightest idea in the world what any of the little movements meant, but watching seemed like a good way to try and figure it out. Just like it seemed a good way to try and pretend that had just happened . . . _hadn't_.

The young yellow mech was still not sure what to make of what had happened. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know. He most certainly didn't want to ask the only thing that could probably give him an answer. Considering the damn gold 'cat' inside his head was the one that did it in the first place he was pretty sure he was justified in that feeling.

Made sense to him at least.

That didn't mean he wasn't rattled though.

Because oh no, he _was_ rattled.

His breath was still uneven just as his finger shook the slightest bit whenever he uncurled the tight grip he had them in. Worse than all that though was how much his spark hurt.

Burning wasn't the right word, but Bee didn't know what else to call it.

It was a hot ache down the very center of his being. Like a part of himself had revolted against something and then slammed itself shut. He could almost feel the hard press of bars around the pulsing orb of life that was his spark.

Problem with that though, was he wasn't sure if he had put them there or if . . . well Star did.

He wasn't sure Star could do that. You know, considering he was supposed to be a figment of his imagination, but for a figment of his imagination he sure seemed able to _talk out loud._

Like that was okay let alone normal.

Well no thank you strange fraggin' voice inside his head he was _not okay_ with it. He did _not_ like having something else take control of his fraggin' frame and _speak through him_!

His doorwings flared, fluttered angrily, hiked up high before he managed to get them pinned back down again. Forcing his winglets to unpin from the lower section of his back. Trying with everything inside him to keep his plating from flaring in pinning it both fear and anger.

Fifty-five vorns old and he felt like a quivering sparkling.

He wanted to run and hide.

To cower away in the safety of strong arms and warm sparks. He missed his carrier and his sire. Though to be honest he didn't miss how loudly they along with everybot else were going to yell at him when he finally found his way back. Let alone what they were going to do when they saw who he was trailing along at the heels of.

Somewhere inside him he knew that this wasn't going to go well, but his only chance of getting out where Dustoff and Wardrums. Besides, he sorta . . . well _liked_ Dust. He seemed wise in a way that none of the rest of his family was.

Sure, some of the smartest bots Cybertron had ever produced were part of his family but Dust was so . . . _old._ The very energy inside him was older then even Grimlock.

Bee wanted to follow the big medic around with a datapad and ask him every question under the sun. He wanted to know why it was, _how_ it was they were related more than anything else though. He just hadn't quite worked up the nerve to do so yet.

That and the voice inside his head started talking out loud which kind of put a damper of his outward curiosity for the moment. He figured he'd have time to ask questions later anyway. Because even though War seemed to hate the very air he cycled through his vents Bee was pretty sure this wasn't just going to be a drop off kind of thing.

Not if he had anything to say about it that was.

The heavy tread of the massive mechs walking through the dark tunnel ahead of him brought him back to the present and he found himself padding quietly beside the sheer rock shaking steps that were the other two set of steps.

Craning his neck up the little yellow mech striped in black looked upward toward Dust's pale faceplate and his light red optics. Either the movement or something else alerting the helicopter. With a twitch of his long bladed roters he tilted his head down just enough to catch Bee's hold.

"Yes, mechling?"

"I didn't say anything." Bumblebee shook his head.

That pale faceplate lifted slightly in response to the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips as the old mech chuckled. "You didn't need too. Those doorwings speak for themselves."

Bee paused half a step, frame twisting enough to glance over his should to find his doorwings were lifted higher again. Spread out at the tips in an open kind of hang where the tips pointed out and the tops pointed in. Held about the middle of his back in an easy way.

Oh.

He hadn't even known they moved after he forced them a still not a moment ago.

"They do?" He wondered which got him a heavy snort from the even bigger black mech walked ahead of them. Snapping his gaze around again to look the shuttles way he found Wardrums didn't so much as look back at him after he let out the derogatory sound. Nor did he bother to speak. Yet somehow, that snort spoke for itself. The sound enough for Bee to sink down on himself and closer to Dustoff.

The helicopter mech narrowed his optics slightly to his mate's back but said nothing in response to him. Instead, he let out a tired breath turning his attention back to the young mech. Wardrums was spinning internally just as Dust was. The difference was Dustoff handled it far brother then his dear other half did.

This was not the time for the two of them to start hissing out fearfully at what they had heard. That would come later. Probably after War had his hands around the foolish Prime's neck.

For now, Dustoff would worry about keeping the mechling calm and War would be his normally giant aft of a self. That was nothing new.

"Yes, mechling." He rumbled out drawing the youngling's attention to him again and not at the tenseness of his mate's back. "Do you not know this?"

"I know wings portray emotion." It took a moment but Bee finally answered him. Those bright optics of his glancing upward again. "I'm not very good at controlling mine, or reading them. Prowl is trying to teach me, but well we haven't gotten very far."

"Prowl?" Dustoff questioned, mind working over what he knew about the Autobots. If he was right that was the eldest Praxian they had saved. Flamewar was keeping tabs on the bots that had taken her charge away from her. Not that she would have ever kept Flare Up from her brother once she found him again, but that didn't mean the dark femme didn't miss the young life she had saved all those vorns ago. When memory flashed through Dust he went on before the mechling could speak again. "He is the black and white Praxian among the Autobots, yes? The tactician if I am not mistaken."

"Yeah." Bee chirped, wondering how it was Dust knew that while he also wondered if he should know that. Lying about it didn't feel right though. Not when the big medic had been kind to him and they said they would take him home. "Yeah, that's Prowl."

"A _Praxian_ is teaching you frame language." Wardrums' deep voice thundered in front of them. "How inadequate. Well, that explains a lot."

Bee's plating tensed slightly but he kept his voice level as he shot back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, mechling." Dustoff cut in, glaring hard at War's back while they kept pace behind him. "He is simply being an aft. Eventually you will get use to that."

"But what's wrong with Prowl teaching me doorwing language? It's not like there are a _lot_ of wings around the Autobots you know?"

"That stuffy breed wouldn't know frame language if it smacked them upside the faceplate." War grumbled back. "That is why."

"Oh yes, War." Dust huffed at him. "Because their entire culture in Praxus was not based off of frame language or anything like that."

" _Their_ interpolation of it." War retorted. "Not the base of it. You will never _truly_ understand wings until you go back to the beginning. Not that that matters though, because for that to happen you must _use_ them. No grounder will ever be capable of that."

"And whys that?" Bee snapped, said wings hiking up high on his shoulders, tightening together and puffing straight up.

"Because you _can't fly_." Those fire optics burned over his shoulder with a twitch of his head but this time Bee wouldn't back down from it.

"Well, duh, what the slag does that matter?"

 _It matters because of coding, you ignorant little glitch, but I'm not going to tell you that. We might be able to get away with it. It might not happen to you. I've never been that lucky though._

Wardrums bit the words off his tongue instead just letting out a low growl in response while he turned on last corner meeting the suddenly glow of sunlight with both a welcome relief and a tired ache. He knew there was nothing he could do to change how any of this would go but that didn't make him any more willing to put up with it.

And when he got his hands on the slaggin' Prime he was going to turn him every way but loose. His claws already itched to plating. For what he should have done _vorns_ ago. If he'd listened to his instinct long ago known of any of this would have happened.

Granted, the royal family would be extinct, but the truth of that matter was they should have died out when The Fallen turned on his own kin. When the Guild fell from within. When Prui and Pritum followed Iceeia to death. When foolish younglings who couldn't even read the history they got their grubby hands on twisted the truth into myths and took every sensible thing away from it.

When they turned a pair of brothers into _gods_. When they turned the Guild into a berth time story.

When they forgot where they came from and what they really were.

When Wardrums and Dustoff faded out of time and were left to rust in the pits of this slaggin' world.

Not for the first time the old shuttle wished he wasn't the last. That he'd fallen with his troops and his brothers-in-arms. That the first war had taken him like it should have and not left him standing here alone in the dark trying to fix what he didn't break. Trying to undue a too proud creator's mistake.

There was nothing for complaining about any of it though. There was now nothing left but to pick up the shreds of what was laying around him to try and save what sibling jealously had brought to their race.

He should have done it when the Youth Sectors went down in flames.

He should have done if when the Functionalist rose to power.

When their race started kill each other over frame differences.

Well, probably all the way back to when Iceeia died. That was when he probably should have stepped up and shoulder more of what was going on around them. Put down the title of soldier and took up something that would have kept thirteen spoiled brats in line. If he had maybe none of any of it would have ever happened.

Maybe . . . well maybe he'd still have Mercy and this little yellow thing trailing after him wouldn't have never been born. For if he'd stopped what he knew was coming back then Shootingstar never would have died because likely Deathtoll never would have fallen.

There would be no need for the young life behind him doomed already to a fate that couldn't be changed.

Wasn't that the kinder option in the long run? Wasn't that better then what would come?

* * *

Bumblebee had never been so happy to see sunlight.

When the bright rays of glowing warmth reached out from the world above into the inky blackness of the tunnel he didn't wait another moment. He sprinted forward toward the sky. Past the amused helicopter and the huffy shuttle to break out into the light for the first time in orns.

A happy, bubbling laugh left him before Bee even knew what he was doing. Reaching the sunlight he threw his arms out to the side, doorwings spreading wide and high, spinning around in a tight circle on the tips of his toes as he threw his head back and laughed. Optics wide open taking in the brightness around him. It didn't matter that there was nothing but lightly blowing red sand in every possible direction.

It was the most amazing bit of nothingness Bee had ever seen in his whole life!

In the middle of all his celebrating he missed the two massive mechs standing together in the arch way of the tunnel entrance that made even the two of them look small watching him dance around in a circle.

He missed the quiet words Dustoff murmured to his mate. "By the powers, he is just like her."

"Bite you tongue." Wardrums hissed back at him under his breath. Optics narrowed as he watched the young mech spin. He couldn't deny it though.

No.

For Dust was right.

"Refusing to admit it will not change the truth, War." Dust sighed, twisted his head enough to glance at the larger shuttle.

"You know the truth." War shot back. "The truth is none of it even matters. In the end, it was all for _nothing_. All of it. It was for _nothing._ "

"It matters, my spark." The words were quiet and full of pain. A pain that War didn't want to hear, wanted to fix, but didn't know how to change it. "It matters."

* * *

"So that's your brilliant plan?" Ratchet glared up at the silver mech perched on the top of a sandy rock looking down into the bottomless hole below them.

See, Ratchet—unlike the idiot up there on the rock—was staying well back from the _giant gaping hole_. He could see well enough just how deep a drop that was from way back here. He had no interest in getting closer. Getting closer meant he had to think a little too hard about how far Bumblebee must have fallen before he hit ground.

It meant he had to think about how hurt he might be. Laying somewhere waiting for help that was taking too long to get to him.

Jazz didn't so much as glance over his shoulder as he glared down into darkness of the hole. "It's jump or wait for the comms to make their way through. Even then we'd have to wait for them to find us. We've spent too much time waiting."

"Look, Jazz-mech." Sideswipe started from where he and his twin were keeping close to Ratchet. "I've done quite a few stupid things in my life, a good portion of which have been for Half Pint but jumping down there to land in a million pieces isn't getting him help."

"This is stupid." Sunstreaker growled, optics narrowed at the darkness below them. "Even if we didn't break into bits when we hit the ground and miraculously weren't horribly injured in someway there is no way to know he's even anywhere near this tunnel."

Bright optics narrowed behind his visor Jazz finally turned with a glare. "I'm open to better ideas at this point."

"We could try his comms again." Ratchet sighed quietly, already knowing that there was no point. If they couldn't even kept comms through this sand storm back to the ship there was no way the audio waves were going to travel down there. Just as even though they each kept reaching with their sparks they couldn't get a feel of him. He was just too far away.

"If he was close enough for comms to work in this storm we'd be able to feel him." Ironhide rumbled, dark optics locked out on the red blur that was the world around them. His plating was still bristled as it had been since he lost sight of his son. A testament to just how upset the huge warrior was.

The set of his jaw was enough.

Hide had always had a bit of a bad habit when it came to grinding his teeth. It was something he picked up back when he was alone in life trying to raise a high strung little brother. One he'd never seemed to let go. Not that his life had gotten any less stressful over the vorns or anything like that though.

It was a habit of his old friend's that Ratchet was more then use to. He'd been doing it the orn he met him out here in these very shifting sands and here he stood doing it as well. For if there was one mech among them that truly knew the desert it was Ironhide.

Jazz was just as much tribal as Hide was but the difference there was that Jazz had been raised as a Prince among a Tribe that fought for territory and kept a home region. Ironhide had been a member of one of the nomadic tribes.

He'd spent his whole young life and a good portion of his younger maturity traveling this sands every orn. He knew the way the desert shifted, how it moved, and how it breathed. Alive like any other creature.

He knew the creatures that though war had diminished were still clinging to life here and there among the endless sands. He knew the dangers that lay in the shadows and the way this world out here worked.

He knew they were running out of time.

"We can't jump, Jazz." Optimus deep baritone pulled all the focus. The towering Prime standing at the hole's edge gazing down into the ink below them.

"Sand sharks do not make easy entrances." Ironhide rumbled back at him.

"Then we find a way in that isn't made my Sand sharks."

"Few creatures are dumb enough to make use of their tunnels let alone alter them." Jazz replied.

"War has made us all desperate, Jazz. I think we might find ourselves surprised." Optimus responded, hoping against hope that he was right.

* * *

"So, runt." Wardrums deep drawl pulled Bee's attention up from his basking in the sunlight. "Where are your poor excuse for caretakers?"

Expression twisting up in annoyance the little yellow youngling glared for a few nanos before sighing. "We were following the sun."

"Well that's a direction at least." The shuttle nodded. "Any idea where you fell in at?"

"A while back. I walked a long ways, but the tunnels did so much twisting and turning I don't know."

"Sand sharks like mazes." Dustoff agreed. "Helps them catch their food."

"Which you would have become if we hadn't come along." War snorted turning himself toward the morning sun.

"You mean there are still sand sharks alive?" Bee asked, hurrying up to keep up with the long steps the two huge mechs could make. He tucked himself back in to Dustoff's shadow again following the path War took forward.

It didn't escape his notice how much more work it was for the two of them to walk in the sand. So much more of it shifted under their weight. Causing both of them to half to steady themselves more often than either of them seemed to like.

It made Bee wonder why they didn't just transform and fly. He was small enough he could ride along with Dustoff, that's not to mention that a shuttle War's side could carry probably the whole patrol that came out here with no problems at all. He could carry Bee and not even know he was there.

He had a feeling asking questions about that would be stupid though. Wardrums didn't seem the type of mech willing to haul others around. Let alone him, considering he didn't even seem to like Bee.

Following after them, mindful of how their weight would shift suddenly or they would curse at the slide of their bulky forms seemed better than getting snapped at for asking stupid questions. Things had been okay so far, but he still hadn't quite figured out what the make of Wardrums.

Bee was almost positive now that it had been worry in those fire red optics. He didn't have any idea _why_ there had been worry in those optics, but he was pretty sure that there had been.

He supposed now as he trialed alongside Dust that it would make sense that the huge shuttle would care a _little_ bit right? Why would he bother going to all this trouble if he didn't?

As far as Bee was concerned it didn't make any sense.

So he figured assuming that Wardrums might care just a _tiny_ bit wouldn't be too far from the truth. After all, Dust said that it was War's sister that had been his birth carrier.

Bee knew deep down that coding and energon meant very little to some bots. Megatron was the perfect example of that.

He'd killed his own sire, started a war, and was currently still trying to kill both his younger brothers. He wasn't the only one the war had divided down the middle though. There were many other families that this damn civil war had torn apart.

"Of course, there are, mechling." Dustoff's amuse chuckle broke him from his thoughts. Drawing his attention back to the towering mech beside him.

"It will take more than this war to kill them all off." Wardrums rumbled. "Starvation is going to be the only thing that gets them, but then they'll start eating all of us before that happens. Wouldn't be as if that was something they haven't done before."

Bee stumbled a bit at those words, but quickly caught himself as well as he could. Trying to make it look like he'd just tripped in the side of sand around Dustoff's huge feet and not over that thought hitting him a little too hard.

"They . . . uh . . . _eat_ bots?"

War snorted. "Everything with sharp enough teeth and the bearings to try it can eat whatever they please. Just because we think ourselves above it doesn't mean we aren't part of the food chain."

"The Tribes were the only thing on this planet that ever truly respected that, War." Dustoff replied. "That truth died out with them. Civilization thought itself too powerful."

"Shows just how fall they have fallen. Just how much they have forgotten."

"Forgotten about what?" Bee asked.

"Where they really came from." Dustoff replied.

"You mean like from the ancients?"

"No mechling," Dust shook his head. "I mean like from different worlds."

He stumbled again and this time did nothing to hide it. He was too busy whipping himself enough to stumble along sideways much to the amusement of Dustoff to stare up at the big flier. "Say what now?"

Wardrums let out a long, tried, hard breath though his vents. The force great enough that when it came out of his back-shoulder vents it rattled his wings. Or at least that was what the big mech was blaming it on. It was not because of such great disappointment flashing through him that he lost his careful control of his wings.

No.

Not at all.

"By the stars, what are they teaching mechlings these orns?" He grumbled, lifting a hand to rub over his lined faceplate.

"Apparently not much." Dustoff shook his head sadly much to Bee's confusion.

"But, what, I don't get it! What do you mean from another planet? You mean we're not from Cybertron?" Bee rambled as he hurried to keep up with their stride.

"Yes, runt." War snapped with a glance over his shoulder. "That is _just_ what we mean. If you knew a damn thing about the correct history of the universe you would know that. Just as you would know about the Knights and the Colonies. But _no_ none of that is _real_. It is all nothing but myth!"

"Umm . . . ." Unsure how to ask more Bee glanced between the two fliers. Turns out he didn't need to say much more than that because Wardrums was on a roll.

"No bot seems to wonder how myths came to be. Or if they were real. Or what it was that made this world full of things to keep us alive. Or any of the rest of it! No bot seems to want to bother to use their own processors anymore and _question_ anything. All any of you can do now is bicker between yourselves with blasters and call it a war. You fight over frame type and optic color as if they mean a damn thing. None of you know _war_ you don't know even know the _meaning_ of the word."

His engines cycled with a roar as the powerful thrusters mounted between the long wings at his back started to glow red hot with the power kept inside them.

"None of them have seen war. Not _real w_ ar. They don't know the things we did to get this world. They don't know the slag that has happened only to be lost by the passing of time. They shoot each other over broken laws and sibling squabbles and call it struggle. They kill each other over something as petty as revenge. They have no idea and they never will because no one wants to bother to question any of it!"

"It is hard to question what you never have the hint of wondering." Dustoff said softly back at him watching the youngling while the youngling watched War. "When enough want it all to be forgotten it is not hard to accomplish it. Not with what happened to the siblings and the Guild."

"They let themselves be forgotten because it was easier than pay for their mistakes." War growled, optics blazing as he recalled things better left in the past. Because the repercussions of it were trialing along at his heels like some lost turbo pup.

For really, what else was the runt but that?

Blindly following a path laid in front of him he hadn't even realized was there enough to question. That might be starting to change though.

Neither War or Dust had any misunderstanding about what they had witnessed. They knew there had to be some kind of tie to keep Trickster and the other interested. For the Guild never _really_ died. Not in the way that most would think. For as long as the thing they embodied existed so would they.

That was what happened when two mechs too smart for their own good started playing with cosmic powers they didn't understand. They'd been attempting guards to protect their creations and all other creations for eons to come.

Dealing with the other side of the Divide was never that simple though. One would think their race would have learned that when one world died around them. They hadn't though and bots of their race came into being breaking all laws of nature bound to creators that were not there's and would therefore never care for them quite enough.

Oh if they had only known the destruction that would cause.

War doubted it would have ever stopped the Guilds creation, for even if he hated to admit it they did actually need the cosmic balance they brought. He simply wondered what difference it would have made in all of it if the Guild could have had had more than just creation and tossed to their tasks.

"Who is the Guild?"

The words rattled War and Dust both back to the matter at hand. Leaving them both to twist and stare down at those insanely bright blue optics. The pair of them stopping, wondering silently between each other as those big optics blinked up at them.

They'd known he wouldn't know.

There was no way he could know. Not with how Trickster, Impulse, and Evermore fought to keep it all a secret. Even now, as the question tumbled from his lips Wardrums could feel the shift in the air.

It was something that to a bot that hadn't lived as long as he had, seen what he had seen, and known the Guild sense their creation would have failed to notice. War noticed though.

He could feel the energy shifting along the air. The cackle of underlying power not yet in use but humming with possibility.

The feeling of focus from an unnatural kind of power. Something that was hard to define and even harder to understand. Normally that specific taste of energy was Trickster. He was the one that tended to get the most enjoyment out of making War's life a living pit.

He was watching them and he wanted them to know it.

It was likely he or the other two had been keeping an optic on the youngling this whole time. No doubt they were _happy_ he was out here looking for something that tied into their power and would without a doubt strengthen the thing swimming inside that young spark.

War wanted to punch at least two of them. Not all three of them though. Punching Evermore was pointless. She was too fraggin' terrifying, and she could probably hand him his aft on a shining plate if he tried it.

War might have been the greatest general their race had ever known but he wasn't too proud to admit that.

There was a reason Evermore had no balance partner after all.

Wardrums had felt the Watchers attention enough times to pick apart their energies. This was Trickster's focus and by the feel of him he was in no way happy with the way this conversation was going. The youngling asking such loaded questions and he was not yet to know the answer to them.

Knowing the Guild, the consequences for defying their wishes in that would be extreme. Wardrums didn't have time for extreme right now. He was too busy trying to prevent global genocide.

Not that it was his fraggin' problem, he was just the only one that sorta knew where he and his mate left the damn thing all those vorns ago to hide it from Deathtoll and the Fallen in the first place.

In his defense, it had seemed like a good idea at the time to hide it away in tunnels that were always changing as to make it nearly impossible for anyone to ever find it again. Turns out his plan worked a little _too_ well.

"The Guild?" Wardrums echoed the young mech, optics gazing down into such bright curiosity. There was such a fine mind behind those optics. He did not need Dustoff's better social skills to understand that. He could see the potential just as his other half could.

The difference was that War would not dilute himself into thinking it would last. It couldn't last. He'd lived too long in this forsaken universe to know that it was true.

"They are nothing but stories to the likes of our kind now. They were destroyed, nothing for you to worry about right now." Turning away again he ignored the flicker of blue and black far out among the sand dunes around them followed by nothing.

Apparently, his answer had sufficed.

"Oh." Bee muttered still trailing along beside the towering mechs. His spark clenched uncomfortably in his chest. Some feeling gnawing at the back of his mind that said he was missing something.

He just didn't know what it was.

It was worth tucking away though, to look at later he supposed.

"Well what about the other stuff you said. The Knights, what's that?"

"We are what is that." Dustoff said warmly to him. The faintest smile curling up his lips as he glanced down to the little mech. "What we use to be I suppose. It's hard to be the last of something, young one, and still know what to call it."

"The last of . . . ?" Bee mumbled.

"Time erases that which enough do not want to remember." Wardrums answered. "We are one of those things."

"But why would bots wanna forget where we came from, or what you were?"

"Because it proves every aspect of your _religion_ handed to you by bots that couldn't even read what they were preaching wrong." War gritted his fangs against the audacity of those that had taken power over _his_ world while he was trying to put it back together from the shadows. He should have known better to leave the creators left behind to their own devices.

Maybe _all_ of this could have been avoided if the majority had known what the pit they were doing.

"I don't . . . understand." Bee said softly.

"We don't expect you too, young one. That will take a great deal of time. Time we at the moment do not have." Dustoff offered him, pale red optics lifted to gaze out over the sands before him.

"What do you mean?"

"He means there is your Prime." A flick of a long, broad wing had Bee snapping to attention. Optics growing wide and bright as a happy gasp left him.

The he was off.

Racing forward as fast as his short legs could carry him. He couldn't see the distance War and Dust could but all it took was a scramble up a few sliding sand dunes before he skidded to a stop atop one. Doorwings flaring wide, optics growing bright, and a smile lighting his young faceplate as he gazed down at the sight below him.

There standing in a loose circle through the blur of blowing sand arguing among themselves as per normal stood his family. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's bright forms closest to him standing near Ratchet as they threw their arms around in response to whatever it was they were growling at Jazz. The silver saboteur stood before them with Ironhide's large hand wrapped around his shoulder to keep him still as he growled back at the frontliners. Optimus stood behind them all staring down into what looked like one of those massive holes to the surface he had stood at the other side of not long ago.

Spark giving a hard, happy pulse inside him he yelled with all his might.

"HIDE!"

The six mechs went very still for half a nano then as one all of them twisted. Gazes snapping up to find Bumblebee standing there alone atop a sand dune.

The grin across his lips had to be ridiculous but he didn't care. Instead he just let loose a happy laugh as he watched those shades of blue widen at the sight of him. A few mouths working quietly over what seemed to be his name before he bolted. Tripping over his own feet more than once as he ran hard down the hill. Arms wind milling to keep his balance as half slid half ran down the slope of sand. Giggling the whole way as he pitched himself down the bottom. Only making it half another stride before he jumped and found himself caught up tight in thick, strong, cannon wielding black arms.

In a blink he was burrowed. Still giggling for all he was worth as he found himself crushed tight to a barrel chest.

Warm.

Safe.

Like he hadn't been in orns.

Clutching as hard as he could he wrapped himself tight up in that thick chest. Fingers finding familiar grooves in thick plates of armor. Letting himself be squished tight enough that it kind of hurt to breath but not caring one damn bit for his was squeezing back just as hard. Reaching out internally for the pulsing ball of life on the other side of that strong chest. The one that reached right back.

Warm, welcoming, and oh so relieved as it clutched just as much as its owner's frame was doing. Taking him in and wrapping him up as tightly as all of him could. He found himself rocked slightly back and forth as Ironhide pulled him impossibly tighter to his chest. Yanking him up fully off the ground—he kind of had to considering how much smaller Bee still was—to wrap him and keep him safe.

That broad faceplate burrowing down into the soft cabling of Bee's neck as Bee pressed his own rounder face into the center line of Ironhide's chest.

It was only after his bubbling laughter started trailing off that the little mech finally picked up on the other sounds going on around him. The first being Ironhide's rumbling voice echoing all around him as he simply stood there holding his son mumbling his name over and over again into the soft cabling and protoform of his neck.

Bee purred at the sound, snuggling himself closer as he pulsed to his adopted sire. Calling back and pulling close in every way he could think of as he was swung back and forth.

Finally, with another short chuckle the youngling pulled himself back just enough to tip his head back and catch sight of Hide's relived optics when his sire did the same. Those dark blue optics sparkling as his faceplate creased in a smile the likes of which the old mech very rarely showed.

Bumblebee grinned right back, baby blue optics glittering as he giggled. "Hey Hide."

"Bee," Ironhide purred back at him before yanking him closer again and nuzzling his head. "Primus, little one, where have you been?"

"Well," Bee muttered, pulling back again only to be snatched up from dark arms and yanked away. Ironhide's growl was ignored as Sideswipe got a hold of him. Yanking Bee close in a crushing hug that was shared between him and Sunny.

And with that Bee found himself passed around. Not that he minded with each mech took hold of him and pulled him close. Spark bonds flaring back to full use and strengthening the links between them all. He was squeezed to Jazz and Optimus each for a long moment before Ratchet finally got a hold of him. Holding him tight before pulling back to get a look over him.

Bee felt the familiar tingle of scans waiting for the moment the CMO would notice. It didn't take but a blink before he found himself placed down and shoved back at arm's length for the medic to run his optics over him.

Taking note of the patches and such that Dustoff had done in the soft blue light of a crystal cave. Out here they looked even louder. Dark grey patches and welds against bright yellow plating that honestly had seen better orns.

Bumblebee was scuffed and dented on just about every inch of him but when the others noticed the work that Bee in no way would have been able to do on his own they all paused. Coming closer with happy, open emotions from before snapping closed faster than a slime eels' jaws.

"Bumblebee?" Ratchet gruff voice questioned, leaving Bee to stare back up into that oh so well know faceplate as he shrank a little.

"Well uh, see I sorta found some help."

"Help?" Ironhide growled, cannons cycling quietly only to roar with a sudden surge of plasma into them when a deep voice echoed over the wind. Snapping all six mechs' attention up to the dune their youngling had slid down. Only to freeze tight when they caught sight of the truly colossal forms easily making their way down the tall hill. To them it was nothing more than a few lifted steps while Wardrums growled.

"Help? No, I wouldn't call me that." The shuttle let his voice match the angry pitch of his flight engines. The sound making Bee turn in a flash, optics widening at the sudden change he found in _both_ of the old mechs.

Wardrums had been grumpy to downright mean the whole time he'd known him, but never Dustoff. Now, as the helicopter medic walked as his mate's side his pale red optics glaring with an anger that Bee had never seen before. An anger that made him shrink back despite himself only to yelp suddenly when Ratchet's grip suddenly tightened.

The little yellow mech then found himself shoved back behind the medic's frame. One hand still gripping him tightly even while the twins closed in around the bright medic. All Bee could stare at though, even around Ratchet's side, was Wardrums as he stalked closer and closer to his family. Growling out thick, angry words while his optics locked on Optimus.

Optimus who tightened before the rest of his family. Plating clamping down and flaring in different places. His back straightening and his shoulders rolling. His hand clamping tight around the plasma blaster that before had hung limply in his grip at the sight of his little mechling.

All the ease and happiness was gone from him now. Replaced by what Bee almost thought might be . . . fear.

"One thing." Wardrums snarled. "I told you _one thing._ One simple thing. One _easy_ instruction. Keep him _out_ of my desert, and you couldn't even do _that._ You slaggin' bastard! Do you have any idea what you've done!?"

And then with a flash of movement Bee almost missed he had the Prime by the neck.

* * *

 **So yeah, War is very upset. That's kind of justified though. Considering he knows the price that must be paid.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. It was swiftly edited because this weekend has been crazy, but I wanted to get it posted for you all. So forgive my mistakes. There are probably a few.**

 **I'm looking forward to what you all thought, so let me know. I'll see you next time when we find out if War snaps Optimus' neck or not. Fun right? ^-^**

 **See ya'll later!**

 **-Jaycee**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter 14

It would have been extremely impressive had it happened any other way. That was just the simple truth. It wasn't so much that Optimus was still the biggest bot in Bumblebee's life.

For he wasn't.

The small yellow mech was no longer as naive about the size of bots around him as he had once been when he was palm size. There a few among his every orn life now that outsized Optimus greatly, but there was _nothing_ like the sight that was suddenly before him.

For he had never seen somebot that made the Prime look that small. Not even Grimlock.

Dangling there with his legs almost comically far from touching the ground with a clawed fist clenched tightly around his neck—and a good portion of his chest because of the sheer size of it—Bumblebee, for a moment, could do nothing but stare at how ridiculously small Wardrums made Optimus look.

And then of course, all pit broke loose.

No matter if the mech was a giant shuttle former or not, no bot took the Prime by the neck with some of the closest mechs too him standing around watching. Optimus was no push over either.

Even after the dark words were growled out of Wardrums' clenched fangs as his grip tightened the blaster rifle that had been clenched in Optimus' hand lifted to jam itself between the grooves of his chest armor. All while the twins' blades snapped free, Jazz snarled, Ratchet called up weapons programs, and Ironhide cycled his cannons.

"Drop him, you slaggin' frag—"

Bee didn't see the lift of War's arm or the rapid transformation sequence coming any more then Ironhide did when he started snarling. So the hot blast of dark plasma slamming into both the ebony mech alongside Jazz and the twins wasn't something they could dodge.

The bright light along with the flash of heat drawing a panicked yelp from the young yellow mech even while Ratchet twisted from the shot, arms wrapping around him and drawing him close. No matter if the blast for some reason went wide of them all together.

Spark rabbiting in panic he tried to shove himself out of Ratchet's tight hold, but the kneeling medic kept him to his chest. He growled, turning even with his arms still tight around Bee, to find the cluster of some of the Autobots most powerful mechs laying in a slightly charred pile trying to shove themselves upright. They were all still alive and mostly unharmed, maliciously, and some of the panic died in Bee then, but it didn't ease too much as his gaze snapped back to the towering shuttle to find him snarling down at Optimus.

Pulling the red and blue commander to him until they were noseplate to noseplate, he rumbled. "Go ahead. _Fire_. I'd love to see if you can so much as dent me."

The rifle clenched tight in Optimus' fist was squealing from the level of plasma he had charged it with. The hot barrel sizzling against the huge black mech's plating and yet it didn't seem that War wasn't even tickled by it.

Jaw clenched tight as he dangled by his neck Optimus shoved the blaster's barrel a little deeper between the slight gaps in War's armor. No matter that the shuttle didn't so much as blink at it.

As those fire colored optics flickered with fires of burning rage War snarled into the dangling Prime's face. "I _warned_ you. I _warned_ you and you brought the little runt here anyway!"

"It wasn't on purpose." Optimus choked back at him, those bright blue optics of his dimmed in pain from the hold around his neck cutting into the flow of his energon and the ease in which his vents could cycle, but he didn't unclench his jaw nor did he lower the blaster jammed over Wardrums' spark.

"Wasn't on purpose!?" War spit back at him, not even caring that the four mechs he'd bowled over in one measly half aimed shot were wobbly getting back to their feet. "You can't even control one slaggin' pint-sized, half grown, soft armored, _mechling_!? Are you that incompetent, you glitched fool!?"

Ironhide's snarl was growing again, the big black mech shakily getting his feet back under him while his optics darted from Bee struggling but still caught tight in Ratchet's grip where the two of them stood not so much as scratched from the blast. Those dark orbs then shot to Wardrums again. Standing there with a blaster where his hand had once been, the smoking thing still leveled at them while he dangled the Prime by his throat.

As the twins shoved themselves up right, both seething over the black chars down their armor and what was going on before them, they helped a more then slightly dizzy Jazz back to his clawed feet. Their shared snarling echoed along with Hide's but neither so much as moved an inch. Not with the sight of that smoking blaster leveled at them. Not when Dustoff rumbled from where he stood arms crossed a few paces between his mate and the others.

Long, dark rotor blades pierced here and there with shinning silver charms that Bee had not noticed until he was back in the light of above ground, the huge helicopter growled out lowly. "You two had better just stay where you are. You know better than to try that."

"Dust," Sideswipe tone, even if it bubbled with a growl, was somehow almost pleading as his dark blue optics darted between the towering flier and his even bigger mate that held their Prime.

Dustoff's light red optics flickered over the charred fools before darting over to Bee hanging in Ratchet's now slightly trembling grip staring back at him with huge confused optics. He just snorted, shook his head, and turned back to his mate.

"You were warned."

"Dust!" Bee cried out, confused and scared as he wiggled in Ratchet's grip. Staring back at the towering fliers.

 _Why!?_

Why were they doing this!?

They . . . they helped him.

They said they'd take him home.

Sure, War was a glitch. He was mean, he was scary, and Bee didn't understand why he seemed to _hate_ him so much, but Dust . . . Dust wasn't like that.

He had been nice.

Kind.

He had sighed at his mate's anger and kept the stumbling youngling close to his side as they wound their way out of the darkness. He hadn't really answered that many questions, if anything he'd managed to confuse Bee more, but this . . . .

He didn't understand what was happening!

"You hush up, you little bastard runt!" War's snarl had Bee flinching. Doorwings and winglets slamming down to his back in fear as his antennas pinned back down. His struggling came to an end as well. The desperate attempt to get out of Ratchet's grip ended. Instead he cowered back.

More than happy to let Ratchet's grip tighten even more as the medic straightened. Moving the now limp youngling in his arms until he shifted him a bit more out of sight. Optics narrowing as his engine finally picked up a snarl of his own. Matching the growl that echoed even in the Prime's chest now.

"Leave him alone, Wardrums." Optimus rumbled right back.

He had not expected that to get him a roaring laugh from the towering shuttle before he found himself slammed into the red desert sands. The hit dented and snapped several bits of plating and might have done the same to a few struts, but as his blaster went spinning away through the sands he found he could hardly try and shove himself up off his aft and onto his elbows before the huge flier was looming over him. Caught between a dark chuckle and a rumbling snarl.

"Leave him alone?" The big mech barked. " _Leave him alone_!? I've been trying to do just slaggin' that for the last fifty damn vorns, you damn wanna be Prime! It was _you_ that brought him _here_! This is all _your_ slaggin' fault. _Everything_ that comes next is _your_ fault! Live with that, you fool!"

"Wardrums," Finally Dustoff's much calmer, but no less deep baritone cut through his tirade. Leaving the larger mech to glance up form where he loomed over the Prime on his aft at his feet. Finding his mate standing there off to the side of him was no real surprise. What was a surprise was that Dustoff was staring off into the sands with a pinch in his brow until he turned again to stare up into those fire colored optics. "It's time to calm down now. You're attracting attention."

War snorted, though he did find himself straightening. Gaze flickering out over the hills of sand to catch sight of a glimpse of black plating far in the distance alongside a larger form of grey before both of them blipped out of existence in a flash of blue and red.

It was too far for the other, much shorter, mechs to have been able to see over the tall hills of sand, but that didn't stop all of them from glancing that direction as well. No matter that all they could see was sand.

Wardrums huffed as the Watchers disappeared from existence again. With a shake of his helm, his engines still snarling, he turned his attention back down to the Prime slumped at his feet.

"Let them come." He said, low voice shaking the very grains of sand scattered beneath him. The words snapping the Prime's attention to him. Those royal blue optics widening in something so very much like fear that War was amused. "We'll have ourselves a nice little family reunion."

Dustoff snorted, heavy arms tightening in their cross against his chest while his blades twitched behind his back. "No."

War simply gave a fanged sneer, optics still locked down at the bot that dared call himself a Prime at his feet.

Oh if this little glitch's ancestors could only see him now.

How the mighty house of Primes had fallen.

Seemed in the end they still bowed under the presence of a King.

Why of why, did he ever become a General again?

A hard smack through his sparkbond along with a bombardment of remembered images he didn't need tossed at him nearly had him staggering to the ground. Dustoff didn't let up though.

Oh no, he went for the jugular.

The rolling images that swarmed between their sparks were flashed of a long dead world. Of a memory of it once alive with glowing lights under the shine of two suns and three moons. Of beautiful cites sprawling through crystal forest and blowing sands that eventually crumbled and turned to dust under the foolishness and neglect of those that had won the world to begin with. Of huge ships built in a bargain that never should have been made to make even him look small. Ships that filled to the brim with those that survived the plague, jetting off into the darkness of space. Pilgrims once again in search of a home. For a purpose besides that that they were built form.

The images shifted again. To long nights aboard cramped ship halls. To endless miles of space. To dead world, after dead world, after dead world.

To hope slipping through strong fingers of a mech that never once bowed before.

To shoulders grown tired and bent under the pressure of a promise he couldn't keep.

To a sudden flare of hope in the form a bubbly bright new spark. A sparkling that glowed the color of a soft sun, with optics so blue the cloud drifters of the far corners of space would be jealous.

To a purpose being found again even when age and weariness left that new spark orphaned. Left War and Dust both to fill places they didn't know how, but did anyway. For hope had returned to them.

The imagines staggered him back several steps. Pain flaring after every one of them, but Dustoff was nowhere close to done. The memory images shifted once again, showing now a collection of ships finding each other in the vastness of space once again. To a once proud prince, short time king, now leading a dwindling people starving to death on their own ships bowing his head in respect to the plan of two other kings.

To a plan that was just crazy enough it might save them all.

To another deal with the darkness in a desperate attempt to stay afloat.

To a war that broke out among the cosmos in which his race picked up a task they had had been built for, had run from, and then in the end would eventually flee again that he lead the frontlines off for a galaxies wide struggle that killed more worlds and races then War ever wanted to think back on.

Then freedom.

Freedom that came soaked in energon and blood alike, but freedom all the same.

In a double cross and a finding of something they all never should have gotten their hands on. But that they had agreed to anyway, for the young lives they hid away on their ships.

Then . . . after a whirling mess of black that had him shaking his head to try and clear it he was hit with another flash of memories.

The world he stood on now, shining brilliant and new off the bow of pilgrim ships. Memories of others, the images of sent through cheer filled video calls off in far corners of the universe where they had scattered to be free. Of life rising again under the guidance and imagination of those he deemed wise enough for a King to kneel down to.

Of his life growing content as cities and cultures filled a once empty but perfect world with life. Of a job he didn't really enjoy, but excelled out. A job he accepted for the life it gave a small yellow femme constantly trialing after his feet and then, later his mate's as she became fascinated with what it was Dust did.

He saw happiness.

Their treasured grab at it.

And then, he saw it crumble.

He saw disaster come in bitter death. He saw a collection of younglings not yet ready to fill the shadows of those that had left them behind. He saw greed and bitterness swell between the forces they thought they control learn to control them.

He saw his world fall around him once again.

He saw their life explode into war.

He saw himself chase a foolish mechling bent under the darkness of something he never understood how his creators thought they could control through the cosmos. He saw civil war tear them all apart once again.

He saw the life he had worked so hard to build shatter under malice and sacrifice.

He saw himself and those he swore to protect bound in chains. Disappearing beneath the desert sands so like the ones had once ruled as the world burnt down above them.

Darkness.

Endless darkness that stretched on and on and on until stubborn life emerged again on the surface he had been cast from. He saw as he was strapped in heat, dark, and anger that life slowly bubbled back above them.

He saw culture build, cities form, and New Cybertron change again as history had been lost to it. He saw the truth forgotten under the shifting sands of time just like he and all the truth he stood for were.

Life went on though.

It swelled and it thrived, pulsing and crashing like waves on the shore it fought its way back until eventually it stumbled upon him and the darkness that held him once again.

He watched from chains as history slowly repeated itself.

He watched hope fade as he failed the one precious thing he had left to cling to in the darkness. He watched as another soft sun yellow life with brilliant blue optics that would make the cloud drifters of the far reaches of space jealous come into being.

He snarled loud enough to rattle his own plating as he suddenly tore himself from the flood of memories though his spark. Whole frame shaking, head more so then anything else, as he staggered back more steps then he wanted to admit to before finally the bombardment stopped and he was left panting in the bright sunshine again as the wind kicked sand around them.

Panting with turbines whining, thrusters squealing, and jaw hard while he slowly lifted his blazing optics to find those of his mate once again.

And Dustoff simply stood there.

One optic ridge lifted high, arms crossed defiantly over his chest, staring right back as if he hadn't just shot enough memory between their sparks to cripple them both for orns. To most he would look as if he wasn't the least bit effected, but War was not most.

He saw the stress in the lines of his drawn frown. He saw the way his roter blades quivered slightly behind his back. He heard how hard he was fighting to keep his vents from straining. He saw how much he was stiffening every part in his frame like only a medic could to hide the true effect of what he had just done.

It left them both just standing there.

Staring.

For longer than War truly wanted to think the two of them simply stood there staring at each other. Until finally, with his spark feeling like it was cracking inside his chest he whispered out.

"Fine."

And then, with a roar of aching thrusters he shot up into the sky. Huge frame twisting and spiraling as he climbed until the clouds swallowed him from sight.

Then there came silence.

Stretching out between the collection of mechs as all but one of them tried to figure out what the pit just happened until Dustoff finally let out a frame rattling sigh. Turning his attention back to the cluster of Autobots, but more than anything else the little yellow ball of plating tucked behind the safety of another medic.

Spark aching in his chest for more than just the forced memory purge he manipulated he stared down at that tiny young thing that looked far too much like a ghost for his own good.

Quietly, he finally turned his attention back to the Prime that had long since pulled himself back to his feet. Though he hadn't yet reached for his blaster.

"Come." He softly said. "Might as well continue this in the cool."

With that, he turned. Giving his back to a collection of mechs that a few moments ago likely would have shot him in it. Now, instead they watched him bewildered as he marched back the way he had come to the tunnel outlet they had left behind.

"Dustoff?" It being Sideswipe that called after him in no way surprised the huge flier. If anything, he was a little glad it was him. Pausing as he climbed the dune of sand that had laid behind him, he tilted his head back to give his audio over his shoulder.

"You are out here looking for what it is Megatron has been combing the desert for, yes?"

Shocked nothingness was given back to him for a long cluster of klicks until finally Optimus spoke.

"Yes." He didn't seem to think he needed to question how it was Dustoff knew that though.

Well, at least the young princeling was learning _something_.

It was about time.

"Then you should come with me. For I guarantee you that you won't be finding it without Wardrums' and my help. We're the ones that hid the damn thing to begin with. So come along, we'll sort this mess out one way or another and I have on wish to do it in the blistering sun. Besides," Pointing out over to the south he jabbed his thumb at a growing swirl of wind picking up quite a bit of sand. "It's about to get rather loud and hard to see out here."

And with that, he headed back for the tunnels.

Not at all shocked when it was the tiny yellow mechling that finally slipped from the other medic's tight grip to trial after him leaving his adopted family to follow behind.

* * *

Lost little trubo-pup was a good way to describe this tiny youngling, Dust supposed.

Their first trip through the tunnels with him tagging nervously along at his feet had taught him that. This time he was curious as to how far it would extend again. Now with his adopted caretakers trailed along after him Dust wasn't sure what the mechling would do.

Tentatively picking his way along just behind Dust again honestly surprised the big mech quite a lot.

He had assumed the little youngling would tuck himself back into the safety of his adopted sire's thick hide and keep himself there. In familiar safety where he should instinctively return. Little mech was still young enough to be ruled by that impulsive instinct to cling. Especially after War's latest fit that frankly Dust was behind all the way until he'd stepped to far again.

The youngling didn't do that though.

No.

He was doing the very opposite. Keeping out of his caretakers snatching grasps Dust could hear every now and again reaching for him. He slipped away each time though. Feelings running through his energy field that the old helicopter doubted he was even aware could be picked up outside of the bonds he was shoving them down.

Dustoff was not shocked about that.

There was still far too much the little mech didn't know. Far too much he doubted he would be allowed to tell him.

So he simply flicked his twitching rotor blades and tried to ignore the residue readings of things he could only do because of a bond.

Still, confused and wary puppy was a good term for the young mech. Tagging at his heels, spending much of that time they walked glancing up his height as if suddenly Dust was going to stop, turn, and answer all his questions.

The old tan mech couldn't though.

No matter how much he wanted too.

So instead he lead them on. Ignoring everything and anything else until they slipped back into the darkness of the tunnels, and then, for a long while after that.

He was actually kind of curious to see just how far he could get before the Autobots' patience would end. For the mechling wasn't the only one whose emotions were more visible to the likes of him then they had any idea.

He imagined if they did know just how much he could read they'd snatch their little mech up and be gone. Maybe not because of him doing it, but for the actual reason behind it.

However, for now he was content with going with it. For as long as he could make it work.

Even if it meant he was forced to ignore the absolute 'pathetic-ness' that was a young lost mech who didn't understand a shred of what was or would happen to him.

It wasn't fair, but Dustoff had long ago stopped believing this universe was far.

* * *

They made it a good way down into the long, smooth tunnels before finally the silence was broken. Though it wasn't by the Autobots tails he had as he thought it might be, it was by the tiny yellow shadow he had trailing along at his side.

"Is he going to come back?"

The question was enough to pause Dustoff in his long strides the youngling had to work so hard to keep up with, but it was only for a klick before he resumed walking again.

"You have already seen him runaway once, young one. I'm surprised you don't recognize it for what it is." Dust told him evenly. "It is simply a thing War does. He is angry, and in his anger he does things he comes to regret. Running away before he does them is something he has been doing for a very long time. Have no fear, mechling, he will come back. Probably in just a bad of a mood as before, but he will come back. Finding me is no hardship for him."

And neither was finding Bumblebee, but Dustoff left that part out.

Just as he pretended not to hear the angry snorts that came from the pair of pit fighters he had raised. He supposed the twins had more right than most to huff about Wardrums' actions. He would give them their pettiness for now.

He knew seeing the little mech that had come to mean so much to them choose Dustoff's shadow instead of their own had to be hard for all of them.

He also pretended not to know just how much harder it was all going to get for them before this was said and done. That was better left for later though. Not that he could tell them much of anything to do with it anyway.

"Why did he do that?" This question came with a little more unease, but Dustoff simply huffed a laugh as he replied.

"He has his reasons."

"But—"

"Accepting that is what will bring you the most ease for now, young one. You should just do it. The reason why is bigger than a simple response. It is not something I can give you easily right now. I imagine you'll figure it out pretty soon."

That quieted him down again.

The confusion and frustration in his field alive for Dustoff to taste without so much as reaching out with his own.

Damn.

War needed to get his stupid emotions in check.

"Still talking in circles I see, Dust." Sunstreaker's low rumbled was the point he had been waiting for. Finally drawing the big mech to a stop in a relatively light tunnel no matter that that was with his optics calibrating every few nanos to deal with the darkness. Turning he finally let his attention rest on the mechs following after him.

Lifting an optic ridge he huffed down at the golden mech had had scrapped off of arena floors when he was still smaller then the youngling caught between them. "I can try again if you would like. I'm sure there is an explanation to be found in there somewhere."

Sunstreaker just growled. His brother's hand wrapping around his lower arm as well as the yellow and red medic shoving him hard in the side kept him still.

Like the hot-tempered fool could do more then get his aft kicked should he so much as twitch at Dust. Obviously, the twins had been with the Autobots too long if they had forgotten just who they owed what to.

"Umm . . . ." The mechling speaking up again pulled Dustoff's attention before he could lay into the pair of them. "You all . . . know each other?"

An amused snort left Dustoff before he could stop it. Shaking his head back and forth lightly in amusement he turned away again to keep walking. There was a large alcove of cave not far from here that would be a good place to settle down and have a chat when War decided to come back. There were natural ventilation shafts carved by scraplets long ago that would mean the big mech could start a fire to roast what War would hopefully bring back.

It was about time they put something besides nibbles of energon crystals in the youngling's tanks.

"You could say that, young one."

He was once again not surprised when Bumblebee quickly tagged along at his feet again forcing his family to follow.

"How?"

"The long answer or the short answer?" Dust shot back.

It got him a doorwing twitch and a growl from behind, but the soft reply from the youngling was all he cared for. "Short."

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker I have known since they were much younger then you. It was Wardrums that taught them to be gladiators and myself who pieced them back together each time they got their afts handed to them."

Another shared growl that was ignored.

"I also know quite a few others you know, if you'd like I can tell you, but as for the rest of your lovely little search party we have only officially met once. Not that long ago really, it was the same time _we_ did."

"Really?"

"Yes, when the last Ring fell. You said you remembered that, didn't you?"

Well he had said he sort of remembered Dustoff so Bee nodded to that. He was still hopelessly confused as to what was happening, and he'd really like it if somebot would bother to _really_ explain something, but he supposed taking what Dustoff would give him would work for right now.

He had narrowed his bonds as soon as he slipped from Ratchet's grip and hurried over Dustoff's long steps. No matter how Ironhide and Optimus had snatched for him when he hurried past he just carried his little self after the huge mech.

What had to be a bream later he still had no clue what was going on and his bonds were still narrowed even if his family was flaring him in growing annoyance and worry. He didn't want to be snatched up and huddled away though.

Yes, honestly, War scared him more than a little bit. He didn't understand half of what came out of the huge mech's mouth or why he did half the things he did, but he was still reeling from that bout of . . . _thing_ that had happened to him earlier with Star.

His _friend_ had yet to make another appearance and he couldn't say he was in all that much of a hurry for him to come back. He didn't get _what_ it was his spark was doing lately.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but for some reason something felt like the answer lay with Dustoff and Wardrums.

He . . . wasn't sure how he knew that, but . . . well he just did.

Even if his family seemed to hate the two of them.

He was fascinating by this concept of Dust having known the twins for that long though. That his family had meant them all before, and yet no one talked about them.

Suddenly he came to a skidding halt.

Spark rolling over hard in his chest as his thoughts caught up with him.

These two . . . .

These two that knew his . . . birth carrier.

Slowly, the little yellow mech turned to face his family again. Those bright baby blue optics of his lifting to seek out the darker shade that belonged to Ironhide as he muttered. "You . . . _know_ them?"

Ironhide stiffened, but tried to hide it in a shake of his armor. Like he was trying to get it to stop bristling, but Bee wasn't fooled. It was why when Dustoff finally had them all, somehow, into a big open area of stone tunnel that spread out in a wide circular cave with another few clusters of singing crystals he turned fully.

For Bee paid it all no mind.

He simply came to a stop there in the relative middle of the large cave. Not paying much mind to the find that Dustoff had come to a stop and turned back around to face them all as they all milled into the large round carve of stone.

He didn't take his optics off his sire though.

Watching the emotions flicker through his dark optics as he pulled himself back from the link he'd been trying to flare open since Wardrums stalked into sight in the sand. Now, Hide backed out of it. Trying to close out the rush of feeling flowing through him, but no spark linked to Bee could ever truly hide from him.

He was simply too in tune with them.

So he flared it all back open. Shoving himself through the rising wall he normally respected and crashing it down so that he could get a feel of the fear, the anger, the resentment, the frustration, and . . . other things he didn't know how to name.

And then he fell back out.

Pushed by both his own confusion and Ironhide's shock that he'd pushed through walls he hadn't asked to. It left the pair of them standing there before Bee squeaked, for he had felt enough of it.

"You . . . knew."

"We knew _of_ him, Bee." Ironhide stepped forward only to freeze when Bee took a stumbling step back for it. The big black mech went very still. His faceplate twisting along with his spark as that little yellow thing his life revolved around backed away from him with a slight shake of his head. "We didn't actually _know_ him."

"But . . . ." Another step back as his spark coiled tight in his chest while his vents sped. Twisting he threw his gaze up to find Dustoff's light red optics staring back at him. Something like regret on the tired lines of his faceplate until the look cleared away as Bee tripped over the words. "You said . . . you said that you're . . . that _she_ . . . ."

"Yes." Dustoff let out in a heavy vent not caring to look up when vents heaved across the cave. For he knew what the mechling was getting at, and while he couldn't regret what he had told him to get the little thing to follow after him he did regret what it was about to do. "Yes, I did, and it wasn't a lie. You _know_ that. You can feel that."

Yes . . . he could.

But . . . .

But that meant . . . .

His optics, gathering coolant faster than he realized, turned back to the others with a stare that spoke more than any words ever could. His spark slinking back from his bounds and walling itself off even while Jazz hummed painful at him. Stepping forward past Hide that found it very hard to breathe right now. Clawed hand rising as he reached for the youngling.

"Oh, Bee, come on now. Just hold up a klick."

But the little mech just stumbled back another few feet until he found himself banging back into Dustoff's leg. Head shaking slowly back and forth with a feeling rising in his spark he wasn't sure how to deal with.

Watching as Jazz sagged there like he'd been struck at the reaction, but . . . Bee didn't care.

Because . . . they had _known_ these two. They had _known_.

Which meant they had known about . . . _her._

His real carrier.

They had known mechs tied to her?

And no one had ever bothered to tell him . . . ?

Shivering there against Dustoff's leg he could only stare into faceplates he knew better then he knew his own spark that suddenly he wondered if he knew them at all.

* * *

High over the desert sands a large dark ship the likes of which had not been seen on Cybertron in a very long time floated hidden among sweeping desert clouds and stealth tech that had long since been lost elsewhere to time.

Standing at the large window view ports of the ships main bridge a good sized dark mech stood staring out at the spanning expanse of red sand kicking up in a sand storm fit to bury the world should it see fit. The sight amused the mech, though no smile graced his silver faceplate as he watched.

Arms crossed lightly over his chest he shifted his weight to one hip. Bright green optics blazing with the emotions he would not let show on his faceplate.

For it had been far too very long since he had seen sprawling red sands of a world baring the name Cybertron. Though it might have been some eons ago since he had, oddly enough the same purpose he had way back then was the same he found himself with now.

For hidden in his right hand, clenched tight in his fist was a shattered piece of a ship his scouts had brought back to him.

He hadn't needed the physical proof to know this son had died among these sands a handful of vorns ago. Close sire no one would call him, but he had still been tied by the same bonds all creators that spent any time with their creations were. His link to Mayhem had been no different.

Only now it was empty.

The link cold and broken by death.

For some slaggin' glitch out there had been daring enough to take something from him.

He had not been amused.

Especially, when the information hard won and at high price finally came to him.

Wardrums.

After all these vorns, slaggin' Wardrums was still running about messing up his well laid plans.

How very _inconvenient._

Now he had been forced to come all the way back to this slaggin' wanna-be world to not so much avenge his stupid son, but to remind that slaggin' bastard of a Knight of his place.

"Lockdown, sir?"

The call behind him had him slowly tilting his head to check over his shoulder. The sight of the dully painted mech he had never bothered to learn the name of had him huffing before he grunted. "What?"

"The tracking system got a hit for those readings you gave it."

Now that, _that_ was enough to curl a small smile up the green opticed mech's lips before he turned back to the window to glare out at the desert.

"Good, set a course to intercept. We're going hunting."

"Yes, sir." With that the mech was gone leaving Lockdown standing alone in front of the wide expanse of windows staring down at the swirling sand.

"Get ready, _old friend_." He sneered out at the desert. "We're going to _finish_ this."

Far out over the horizon lightening scared the sky as thunder roared out warning for the coming storm.

* * *

Crouch low over a rocky ledge Trickster sat on his heels glaring down at the tunnel entrance below him.

"This isn't going quite like I planned." His quiet honesty was met with a long stretch of silence before Impulse finally sighed.

"Nothing with War ever goes as planned. It never has."

"It's all happening too fast." Trickster growled, pushing himself up right as he let his gaze wonder out the other direction of the desert. To where Evermore was currently watching a mad tyrant fume about another failure while his puppeteer pulled his strings.

Their carefully laid out plan was spinning loose faster than Trickster had ever seen anything do and he . . . well he didn't know what to do.

"What do we do now?" He quietly asked his elder balance partner.

Impulse, leaning hard on his large axe, let out an angry huff before he quietly said. "I'm not sure."

That was the problem.

There wasn't much they _could_ do.

Not now.

It was too late, it had already all been set into motion and no number of eons of doing this could prepare the three Guild members for what they now realized they had no way to stop. Partly because it was written and partly because it wasn't.

Fate was a finicky thing, and it was about to play its hand. For it had deemed it had waited long enough.

And nothing anybot did now was going to stop it.

They couldn't, not if hope was meant to last and light was to beat darkness in the end.

Trickster knew this just as well as Ever and Pulse did. The problem was he wasn't sure now he could stand back and watch the energon spill. Not this time.

* * *

 **Well, there is a whole lot of big important stuff crammed into this chapter. I look forward to seeing what you all manage to pick apart and what you think is coming next.**

 **Thank you again for reading and reviewing and for bearing with me between chapters. This semester that has been trying to kill me since day one is finally coming to a close. I've got one more week (a whole bunch of work) and then finals. So much fun . . . . But then its break and I can't wait! Mainly because I might actually get some writing done.**

 **Hope you guys liked the chapter! Let me know what you thought.**

 **-Jaycee**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter 15

Spark cold, shrinking in his chest, Bumblebee backed up until he was pressed hard into Dustoff's leg. Somehow managing to find a place where his armor let him hide a little more than might have been possible otherwise. If he'd have been paying more attention he'd have noticed the towering helicopter mech shifted his plating a bit to let the mechling press back until his doorwings were pressed against some protoform behind him.

His mind wasn't in that moment though.

For his mind wasn't doing much more then rolling through everything he'd ever known while his spark cracked in half wondering if all of it had been a lie.

Because they'd known.

They'd _known._

They'd known and they _hadn't_ told him?

How had they known?

Why hadn't they told him?

What . . . what _else_ hadn't they told him.

What . . . what was even happening here?

"Bee," Ironhide's deep voice was pitched into a tone the young yellow mech had never heard before. Something desperate and pleading and brittle, but it broke off when the young mech let out a low whine, backing further into Dustoff even when he didn't have any further he could go.

He ended up pressed as far into Dustoff's armor as he could go, seeking something steady in a topsy-turvy sea that had in a sparkbeat became his world. Because a mech he had only _really_ just met an orn or so ago suddenly felt safer than the mechs that had raised him.

If that didn't explain just how bad this hit him, he didn't know what else would, but frankly at the moment he didn't care. His spark was too busy twisting into a tight cold ball in his chest leaving him panting. Big baby blue optics blown wide with the conflicting notions flaring through him as he stared back at the collection of them.

"You . . . ." Damn, he didn't recognize his own voice. Shivering, cold, and afraid. "You _knew_ her?"

"No." Optimus pushed past the rather weak kneed looking weapons specialist to walked toward the tiny yellow thing he'd been looking after all these vorns. The one he'd been trying to protect. The one that now as he stood there paused when he watched the youngling flinch back from him leaving his spark cold. The one he knew he'd been lying too, but had been doing it because he was trying to keep him safe. He stood there now with his vents short wondering if he'd done it all wrong. "No, Bumblebee, we didn't _know_ her."

"You knew _about_ her!" The shout came out with a hard shove through the bonds he'd snapped closed just moments before. A harsh flash of sizzling pain that left them all stumbling back a few steps if not in pain then in shock. "You _did_! I can _feel_ it! You _knew_ about her and you never fraggin' told me!? You knew about _them_!?"

One hand shoving up he shoved a thumb back at Dustoff. Shaking so hard in his armor he was rattling.

"W-wh-w-h-what else didn't you slaggin' tell me!? _Why_ didn't you tell me!? How could you not tell me you _knew about her_!? About _them_!?"

His was crying and he hadn't realized it.

Thick streaks of coolant stroking his cheeks in pale blue. Dripping down to splatter to the cold stone floor below him. Each hit somehow as loud as shattering glass to his audios as well as others.

And then, before the hitching fit inside him could work itself any higher the massive shape of very old flier shifted around him. The movement behind him of the safe hold he had tried to tuck into seeming to leave him had him whipping about. A scared whine building through the sobs in his chest but before the panic could break he was tucked into a large grip. Careful clawed hands that could wrap him up and hold him like a normal sized bot held a sparkling cocooned him.

Dustoff crouched low with his knees bent on each side of the quivering youngling. It did not make the huge flier seem any smaller. Not to Bee, not right now, but it was a bit easier to meet his optics like this. His head was still thrown back, but the huge mech could pull himself closer this way and because of it Bee's whole world was swallowed up by a deep rumbling of flight engines and a claw tip that was longer than his forearm tilting his chin up to make him stare through rolling coolant into pale red optics.

"Hey now," Dustoff murmured down at him. Old faceplate wrinkled in a way that it hadn't been before. The tightness in his lips, the pinch in optics, it made the mech seem far older then he had a little while ago. The truth behind the whispers of _vorns_ Bee could feel in the old mech's chest suddenly written all over that kind faceplate. It was shocking enough to make the hitching breaths slow down a bit. Enough to make him listen. "You need to calm down for a moment there, young one. Before you do something you're going to regret. I already have to deal with one mech that acts before he thinks, I was under the slight impression that you were going to be cleverer then that."

A few hitched breaths had him sniffling but he found he couldn't say anything as those pale red optics blinked down at him filled with something that looked far too much like pain.

"That's it. Just breathe for a klick or two, little one. You should have all the facts before you start slamming doors."

"But you said—"

"I've told you very little in the grand scheme of things, but I'll tell you a little more if it will make you knock off that foolish crying. Enough tears have been shed for things War and I have done over the vorns, mechling. Do not add to them when they are not needed."

Doorwings plastered against his back twitched slightly in confusion as his optics darted over Dustoff's faceplate, searching for an answer to the question he didn't even understand.

Dust huffed a long, tired breath as he rocked back on his heels. "Your family never spoke of the two of us because War threatened them not to just a handful of vorns ago. The last time you and I met. Before that, they hadn't the slightest idea that we even existed let alone who your carrier was. So do not fault them for what they are not at fault for. We never so much as did more than mention her to them. For she is gone, young one, and no amount of hashing out is going to bring her back. Do you understand?"

Still staring up into those big red optics Bee shook his head.

Because no, no he didn't understand.

He didn't understand any of it.

His spark hurt, and his head hurt, and he was crying, and he was confused, and he wanted Hide to hold him, but he also wanted to run away and hide, and he didn't _know what to do_!

And maybe it was the link Dustoff had let open when he'd told Bumblebee what he had before, or maybe it was just because he was a mech that had been learning how other bots worked for longer than this planet had been a thing.

Whatever the reason, the old 'copter knew that look in those big blue optics. It was why he took another long breath, shaking his head. Settling heavily with a frame strong enough to snap pretty much all of them he let his arms hang loosely over his knees with his rotor blades tightly bunched against his back. Sweeping downward as they brushed against the hard ground behind him. Tuning out their readings was easy with how much other input he was syphoning through both his spark and processor.

Wardrums' emotions were not helping matters either. His skills leaking through the sparkbond that tied the two mechs together making Dust feel and sense more than he wanted too. More than he had any right too.

If he had any sense he'd step back.

He'd let the mechling settle what never should have happened in the first place. For some of it he had all the rights in the world to be pissed about, but he was going about it the wrong way.

And wasn't that just a sad truth Dustoff wanted to punch somebot for.

The mechling couldn't even rightfully get angry, for he didn't know how to be.

He didn't know how to take the emotions rattling inside him and press them outward.

He didn't know how to hate.

A part of Dustoff wanted to rejoice that truth. For here, standing before him, might be the only Cybertronian left in the whole fragged up universe that _didn't_ know how to hate. A universe at war had suffocated every chance he might have ever wanted to make for himself and yet he didn't hate.

He was born for a purpose he might not ever fully understand, he'd never have a damn say in _any_ of it, and he would pay the price for the crimes others commented long before him. He'd never even have the option of doing anything else, and yet he didn't hate.

He had watched his life crumble around him from the orn that he was born yet here still was what might be the brightest spark Dustoff had ever seen.

And the huge medic wanted to kill quite a few powerful things because of it. Because the part of him that had been what kept him alive all these vorns knew the truth of it all. That cold, tired, cynical piece of wire that wrapped tight around his spark knew that one light was not enough to chase away the dark.

Not this much dark.

The dark would snuff it long before it ever got a chance.

Because Trickster could claim there was a plan to all of this all that he wanted, but Dustoff knew the truth. That plan had never _really_ been told to them, and what they thought was going to happen went up in flames when Mercy ran all those vorns ago.

Dustoff no longer believed the _reason_ behind all of this.

He knew how—he knew _who_ —it would end, but he no longer thought it would do what it was meant to do in the process of that.

Because he knew the truth of it that had already been shredded into lies.

And _Primus damn it_ he wanted his mate to stop fraggin' broadcasting!

Tightening his own grip around his spark he lifted a finger again to cuff the little mech on the chin. Part of his attention on the cluster of mechs reeling over there while they stared.

Damn it.

He had to do everything around this slaggin' planet, didn't he?

He was going to punch Wardrums very hard in the nose for this later.

"They didn't know the truth." Dust finally told him softly, making sure those large baby blue pools were watching him closely. There was more. So much more than that, but none of it Dust could tell him and the truth was he wasn't sure if it would matter if he did. "That doesn't dissolve the rest of it, but they really didn't. War made sure of that."

His head lowered.

Those big baby blue optics finding the ground. Field alive with thought and feeling that he probably didn't realize he was sharing, or at least didn't think Dust could read it. Likely it was the later, so Dustoff did his best to tune it out.

Lifting his optics from the small youngling in favor of taking a long, measured look at the current Prime. He didn't bother with more than the adopted sire and the not rightful prince. The rest of them—unfortunately—were a little like collateral damage.

To the mechling, they were not, but to Dust all that really mattered was the one that owned a creation bond with the young one and the one that held more sway in this universe then he had the slightest notion.

They were going to be the two that would hold the defining line for all of this. Because no matter if Dust liked it or not it was them that the mechling would turn too.

He was mad right now. Hurt, and confused, but it would fade.

Dust could already sense it in him. The instinct that wanted to flee to the safety of the bot he called creator, no matter if it was from him that the pain was coming, was pulsing in his spark even now.

He didn't understand, but safety was still what Ironhide and Prime were to him.

He was still young enough that that dictated more of him then he even knew.

"But I don't understand." Those quiet words were met with more tears slowly streaking down his cheeks. However, Dust saw the chance for what it was.

"Then maybe you should go let them explain it to you, huh?"

It was a blur of yellow and the slight crash of metal armor as a much bigger frame caught a smaller and pulled it close, but it was enough to make Dustoff turn away. He could go about getting them something resembling a fire going while the Autobots worked to fix their latest mistake. Because if War didn't come back with something slaggin' to eat Dust really was going to punch him.

* * *

Curled in Ironhide's lap looking a whole lot smaller then he had in a very long time Bumblebee clutched to the safety of powerful cannon wielding arms and he listened.

Well, he mostly listened.

There was some shouting that was involved along the way as they all sat around the fire Dustoff steadily built up from bits of shattered crystal and things he had pulled from his subspace. Most of his actions went unnoticed by the little yellow youngling. He was a bit too busy staring between Hide and Optimus as his family worked through trying to make him understand they hadn't lied to him.

That is, until he started pressing questions that it turned out they had.

And it hadn't even started out that he knew to ask them. It was actually Sideswipe that brought it up.

After Optimus had worked through with Bee what had happened when the Last Ring came down. About learning who Wardrums was through Smokescreen and Outrider. About how Wardrums left them with the Bee after the dust had cleared and they had parted ways. With the huge shuttle warning them to keep the young mech the pit away from him.

Bumblebee didn't know even this version of the story was heavily edited.

He didn't know things like Deathtoll and Trickster along with the other Guild had been edited out. He didn't know that Dustoff had cast his optics across a fire and shook his head once at the ruling Prime when his tongue had tripped for a few moments over that bit of truth.

Well, the Autobots had breathed a sigh of relief, and Dustoff had looked away.

Telling the truth did not mean all the pieces had to be laid out just yet.

Besides, they so much as mentioned Trickster's name they were going to find themselves sucked into another time loop and likely this time, they wouldn't be getting the mechling back from it.

No.

That truth could be left out for now.

So the talking went on.

Bee ask questions he was brave enough too; why couldn't they have at least said they'd known about her, why couldn't they have at least told him he had _coded_ family out there somewhere, why did it all have to be kept secret.

Some of that Optimus had answers that satisfied him too, most of them being that they'd only been trying to keep him safe, but other things weren't good enough. Bee just didn't know how to press them anymore.

Near the end of it—or at least what the adults had been hoping was going to be the end of it—Bee had sat back and nodded. Still confused and kind of upset, but understanding a good deal more than he had when they started out.

Then Sideswipe had cleared his throat, glanced at his brother, and locked his optics on Optimus.

"Tell him." The crimson warrior had demanded. The harsh tone in his voice enough to make Ratchet stare at him, Optimus lift an optic ridge, and Dustoff watch from across the growing flames.

Bee perked up in Ironhide's grip while the mech's arms tightened ever so slightly.

"Tell me what?"

Sideswipe ignored him as Sunstreaker lifted his narrowed gaze to the Prime.

"No more lying." The golden mech bit. "He's smart enough to get himself here, he's smart enough to find us again, no more lying."

"Well," Bee lowered his optics slightly. "That last bit was kinda all Dust. I was pretty much lost until he found me."

At that Dustoff snorted. "Do not sell yourself short, young one. You were on the right track. It might have took you another orn or two but you'd have fond a shallow entrance sooner or later, and you'd have gotten hungry enough to dare some of those crystals eventually."

"I probably would have starved." Bee huffed right back. "I was scared."

"And do you think any bot that stands in darkness alone, isn't?" Dustoff straightened on the other side of the fire, rising to a height that even as he sat down on the stone like all the rest of them left him towering. Those pale red optics of this simmering in the fire light holding Bee in a trance he didn't so much as register until it made him duck his head and shrug. "Being scared isn't a fault, it is what defines just how brave you are."

"That . . . ." Bee tilted his head to the side. "Doesn't make any sense."

Dust just chuckled, pale red optic returning his attention to the fire. "It will one orn. Now didn't you have a question you were asking?"

"Oh." Bee perked back up. "Yeah. Tell me what?"

Ironhide's arms around him were still tense, but when Optimus turned his gaze to the powerful black mech Hide shrugged, resting his chin atop his mechling's head.

"They're right."

"Right about what?" Bee asked.

Optimus let one a long breath as he turned his focus fully to the young yellow mech again and sighed. "Your field test, Bee."

The little mech sat up a little straighter in Hide's arms, ignoring the careful pulse through the bond his sire had opened up with his again when he'd got him back in his grip. "What about them?"

"Prowl's been failing you on purpose and we all knew about it." Sideswipe cut in those he didn't lift his optics away from the fire. His shoulders curled inward in something that looked a little bit too much like shame while Bee went very still.

The doorwings that had been hanging a bit more loosely behind his back hiked up again. His antennas falling down as slowly his head twisted to look back at Hide.

"What?"

The big black mech looked away from those bright optics. Guilt and pain shimmering in his darker ones as he took a deep breath in an effort to collect himself. Turning back to the young mechling when he got his thoughts together he opened up the bond between them as wide as he could. Letting the truth of his words flow freely hoping it would be enough to make Bumblebee understand.

"I can't lose you, you know that?"

Sinking a little deeper into the dark, strong armor of the chest behind him Bee nodded slowly.

"I'm not gonna go anywhere, Hide."

The big mech huffed. "I've buried one son, Bumblebee. I can't do that again."

Bee just swallowed, waiting, knowing he wasn't going to like where this went but already having a pretty good idea why it had been done.

"You're a little too clever for your own good, Half Pint." Sideswipe spoke up again, drawing the mechling's optics to him. Maybe because he was trying to save Hide the pain of this one, or maybe because he and Sunstreaker had been the ones twisting the truth the most around him lately and they had never felt good about any of it. "Guess we're partially to blame for that, but you were passing stuff faster than you were old enough to be. Whether you want to admit to it or not, Bee you're just a youngling. You're armor's not even hardened all the way yet. You're too little to be a solider just yet. But that doesn't mean you don't have the skill set of one. So Prowl pinned you up on the test with us. We were failing you on purpose because if you pasted you'd _technically_ be classified as field worthy. You weren't ready for that, Bee, and neither were we. That doesn't mean you couldn't pass the tests though. You were, we were just cheating to keep you from it. And . . . I'm sorry, Bee, it just . . . we were trying to protect you."

The little yellow mech was quiet for a long time after that.

He didn't run, he didn't hide, and he didn't yell.

He just sort of . . . sat there.

Wrapped up in the warmth and safety of his adopted sire, he just . . . sat.

Bright blue optics turning away from the mechs around him in favor of staring into the flickering fire light. He stayed like that for a long time too. Spark unsure and processor working. Thinking over all that he knew and all that he didn't know. Wondering, remembering, and cataloging of a sort.

He dredged up memories he hadn't thought much of at the time. Shifting through and digging up details that now made a whole lot more since. The ending conclusion being a sour taste on the back on his tongue but a reluctant understanding for it all as well.

For he had two options; one, he could throw a hissy fit worthy of the youngling they all seemed incapable of thinking of him as anything else as. He could run, he could scream, he could blame, and he could hurt them all much more then he already had by accident. Or, two, he could take the fact of it all for what it was. Accept it, and make what he wanted and what was for the best out of it. He could prove that he wasn't some silly little sparkling that couldn't handle the truth.

For it seemed that it had never been a case of he wasn't good enough.

It had only ever been his family wasn't ready.

And a part, deep down inside of him, was very angry about that. For they had _lied_ to him, and as much as it hurt it pissed him off as well.

He knew why they did it though.

He could see the reason shining of so very clearly in all their optics, just as he could feel it pulsing down the bonds they opened up to him again after he had slammed them shut.

He didn't have to like the reason—he didn't to be honest—but he did have to admit to the understanding of it.

Settling back into Ironhide's hold he cast his optics back around the lot of them before settling on Optimus and quietly saying. "Don't lie to me anymore."

It wasn't a request.

It didn't come with a plea.

It was a demand and one he would fight for if he had too.

"I get why you did it. I understand and . . . yeah, okay, you're right I'm little and I'm still very young and I don't think I really grasp just what this war actually is. But you mechs have to start realizing you are the ones that taught me to do what I can do. You have to start accepting that I _can_ do it. You made me that way. You have to start giving me a chance. I'll be careful, but it's not fair that you all get to decide that I don't get to take the same risks you do. You all go out there every orn. You fight, and you leak, and _damn it all to pit Megatron blew our ship out the sky_! Half the crew is dead! Okay!? I know what death is. I know what the risk is. I'm scared of it, but I'm not . . . _afraid_ of it so to speak. Not any different then you all are. Its my family, it's all I have. I wanna fight for it too. You have to stop trying to make me not. Because like it or not our whole world is at war and I can either fight it all on my terms—on your terms—or on theirs. That's just the way it is going to have to be."

He was met with an accepted silence for a long while after that until finally Optimus nodded and said.

"If I think it is safe, I will tell it too you, Bumblebee. I promise."

"Life isn't safe, Opt." Bee's use of the old sparkling nickname for the towering commander wasn't a mistake and it made the big red and blue mech smile at him tiredly, but it didn't change the answer. Bee hadn't thought it would.

"That's all I can give you, little one. This is still war and I cannot give you all the answers all the time."

"I understand." Bee nodded slowly, not completely happy, but happier all the same. "But . . . does this mean I can go on with the field test?"

Ironhide huffed behind him, his arms tightening ever so much again as the big mech sighed and said. "Yes."

And for the first time in what felt like a while, the little mech grinned.

* * *

The night stretched on, klicks ticking on into breams and breams into joor. Eventually the small yellow mech giving into the stress of the orn and the warmth of Ironhide's hold. Soaking up the safety he hadn't had in orns so that he could curl in a ball, snuggle in, and fall into a deep recharge with a familiar engine and a warm spark under his audios.

Around the fire the mechs stayed relatively quiet for a while after that. Ratchet on one side of Hide with Jazz on the other. The medic sat up watching the flames while Jazz leaned back on his arms. The twins were sat on the medic's other side, right across the fire from Dust while Optimus sat across the flames from Hide.

Dustoff was leant back against a cluster of stones his pale red optics staring out into the darkness around them. Most of his focus was inward at this point. Listening to where his spark was telling him War was at the moment.

The massive aft was getting closer again.

Still worked up, angry, and hurting but at least he was coming back.

And he better slaggin' have something to eat with him.

He was still a little ways out though which was why Dustoff figured the silence the Autobots were allowing until the mechling fell into a deep enough recharge wouldn't last now that he was snoring ever so softly against Ironhide's chest.

When the Prime's throat cleared Dustoff was not surprised. He was also not annoyed enough yet to try and ignore him. There wasn't much point. So those pale red optics turned to find the rich blue of the Prime, lifted an optic ridge in permission for him to go on.

"What did you tell him?" Optimus asked quietly.

"The truth." Dustoff shrugged. "A portion of it at least. I had to give him something to trust me enough to let me close to him, you know? Little thing was leaking alone in the dark when something like War and I show up. Any smart mechling would have run and he very much thought about it. So I started talking to keep him still. Sure, we could have tracked him easily enough. It was tracking him that let us find him to begin with, but I really didn't want to chase him down. It wouldn't have helped us any. I was trying to make it easier for all of us. War didn't do much to help with that, but then, when does he ever?"

"War can shove his damn attitude up his exhaust." Sunstreaker growled lowly, the sound pitched quiet as to not wake the mechling.

Dust huffed a tired laugh. "You two should know better than to snark when you can't back it up."

The split spark brothers just growled.

Ratchet shifted uneasily beside them, optics on the medic that spent their younglinghood putting them back together for the mech he was mated too that did most of the breaking of them.

"You can't take him you two fools." Those pale red optics cut hard to the brothers making the low growl cut short. "And you should get the slaggin' nonsense out of your heads before he comes back. He's not in the mood to deal with the two of you and every lesson you ever failed at."

Sideswipe bit at him through clenched teeth. "We did _everything_ that bastard told us to do and you _know it_!"

"Except not get close to something you cannot replace."

The two of them paused for the slightest breath and Dust had a victory in it he no way enjoyed as he sighed.

"He did what he could to _help_ the two of you, and you know it. Stop pretending that it isn't the only reason you're alive. Telling that to a pair of twins was never _supposed_ to work, you fools. It was supposed to make you _think_. To realize the rest of the world was never going to look at the two of you right. It was a lesson to stop trying to make them. But Primus forbid you actually _get_ the lesson for what it was. You were both too busy being pissed at him for tough lessons to listen to him let alone me."

And with that Dust looked away again. Settling his optics on the Prime as he clenched his teeth.

"I've watched too many _sparklings_ die in mindless slaughter to think that lies work, Prime. More than one planet has crumbled under our feet and while everybot around me died I've been left standing waiting to make right things I've said. I'll never get too now. You're in the middle of a war that is destroying everything around you with your older brother because of things you _sire_ did. You should know what I'm talking about. You should understand it."

Optimus looked away, jaw tense.

"Lying to him won't earn you anything but a mechling far too desperate to prove himself. For that is what you have now. And that will get him killed, mechs."

"And I suppose ya _want_ us to talk about Trickster then?" Jazz huffed from where he was leaned lazily back.

Dustoff laughed quietly at that. "Sure, bring him up, he'll poof you across the universe and dump you in a swamp. That or he'll save himself some trouble and just take the mechling now. By all means, bring the three of them up. Or, better yet, let's just go ahead and tell him about Deathtoll, yes? That should be fun to explain."

"Shut up." Ironhide rumbled out, his optics fixed on the little mech laying curled in his lap. Watching him and making sure those young systems were actually in recharge.

"Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it isn't all true, tribe mech."

"You talk about any of that I'll figure out a way to kill your aft."

"Much more impressive then you have tried. You'd find yourself disappointed." Dust just shrugged at him. "You are misunderstanding me though. I don't want to tell him anything about Trickster, let alone Deathtoll. It's just that I'm not deluding myself into thinking this is anything other then what it is."

"And just what is it, Dust?" Sunstreaker huffed at him. "What do you _want_?"

"For him not to die."

And that said just about all of it didn't it?

It was enough to silence the 'Bots for a while at least. Leaving Dustoff to poke at his crackling fire and search through the bond for his mate. There was little more to be done this night then letting a tired youngling get some much needed real rest. What would come next, well, Dustoff knew but he didn't want to analyze it.

No amount of ignoring it was going to keep it from happening, but that did not mean Dustoff had to wait happily for all the pit that was going to come next. So it was with that in mind that he was no surprised when Optimus finally spoke up again.

"What were you two doing out here anyway?"

"This desert belongs to War, though the legal slag of all that truth died long ago. We have no side in your petty squabbling match, we can go where and when we please."

"Yeah," Sideswipe drawled up at him. "That's great, but what is really going on, Dust?"

The old 'copter snorted. "Megatron has found his old master, that is what is going on."

The collection of mechs straightened up at that. Even Jazz pushing himself upright from his lazy slouch.

"Old Master?"

"Wardrums already told you, Prime, just what is wrong with your brother. You can't tell me you haven't put the rest together. We already told you, the Fallen is no myth. No more so then the Guild is, or I am."

Optimus' jaw tightened and Dustoff took that as permission to go on.

"When Vos fell the Fallen was there. It was were Megatron was hiding him, or at least where he was told to hide him. The old bastard nearly got killed in the attack. If only he had, none of the last six hundred vorns would have happened. However, he was just badly injured, knocked into stasis. That doesn't mean the hold on your brother's mind loosened though. Oh no, if anything, it tightened because it is not _really_ the Fallen pulling all those strings. It is Deathtoll. So there you have your reason for why the 'Cons did what happened next to Praxus. Your brother's Master was nearly killed and the repercussion was the near extermination of an innocent breed."

Jazz's visor dimmed.

Dust shrugged.

"I know you didn't know that, but there is your reason. Megatron hasn't been sane let alone his actual self since Fallen got his claws on him, and that was way back when he started pit fighting. And you may blame your blasted sire for all that, the point is though, that it seems Shockwave has finally pieced the old glitch together well enough that he can start giving orders again. Those orders are to find the All Spark. Because we hid it from not only him but his siblings as well when Deathtoll started the first war. When he killed his own balance partner."

Letting that sink in Dustoff watched the emotions flicker around these very different faces. Mechs of different builds, different breeds, and different sparks. Mechs that in a different world would have likely never even have ever given each other a glance on the street, but in this world were wrapped up so tightly among one another they now no longer knew how to live without the others.

A princeling that should have never been Prime, a tribal rat who should have never left the warrior fronts of his people, a pair of quick tempered twins that had the sparks of artists that never should have been dripping in energon, a brilliant doctor that should have never turned field medic, and a runt of a tribal prince that should have never made it out of the sands.

And this was just a fraction of oxymoron's that made up a whole fraction.

At least the ranks of the 'Cons made a little bit more sense to Dustoff.

Maybe that was what made this rag tag group of civilians that should have never lasted an orn against Fallen and his puppet were still holding their ground this late into an Apocalypse.

"I always knew Praxus was because of Vos." Jazz's smooth voice was lowered as he pulled himself forward to wrap his arms loosely around his knees. "Slag there was, we never boomed Vos."

"No," Dustoff sighed. "But Sentinel and your High Council did."

Optimus shuttered. "I didn't know half the slag he was doing until it was already too late to stop any of it."

"Already too late is why you are sitting here now." Dust told him will a little less bite in his words, but they hurt all the same. "There is nothing that will change what has been done, Prime. Your brother is lost to you now. He's been swallowed up by something not even War ever bested."

"I've known Megatronus was gone for a very long time, Dustoff." Optimus whispered with his optics set on the flames. "I do not need you to explain that fact to me."

"Apparently, you do because you are still underestimating him."

"I thought the All Spark was a myth." Optimus bit back at him. "Sen—"

"Sentinel said it was?" Dust cut him off with narrowed pin of his optics. "Yes I know. There are many lies your sire told you that you still have not put truth too. You are blind because you do not wish to see. _He_ is the perfect example of that!"

Throwing a large clawed hand out over the crackling flames Dust pointed hard at the softly snoring bundle of yellow held close and safe in Ironhide's arms. Those pale red optics never left Optimus though as he pinned that royal blue gaze in a shimmering pool of anger.

"It's time you fraggin' realized the forces with which you are playing with, because the longer you spend trying to deny the truth the more you are going to _hurt_ him in the end. He is not _ever_ going to be what you want him to be. No light born in darkness is ever going to measure up to what you think it should be. He's not here to _please_ any of you though. He's here to _pay_ for you and nothing you do will ever change that."

"Trying to fill fools up with fact again, are we, Dust?"

Pale red optics along with many different shades of blue snapped to the mouth of the little alcove they had found themselves in. the big 'copter leaning back at the sight of the towering shuttle ducking his way into the round room of stone.

It was impressive, that something as big as Wardrums could sneak when he wanted too, but it was doable. If he put enough effort in it.

The fact that he was bothering to do it made Dustoff wonder just how long he'd been standing there listening.

"Well it would be a lot easier if you'd stop snarling at them and actually bother with saying something." The tan helicopter mech shot back while he watched that massive shadow colored form stalk into the alcove. He noted the way all the Autobots tensed at the sight of him, or maybe it was less him and more the energon dripping down his long arms from where he was dragging a fairly sized lump of death grey frame behind him.

Dangling hooved legs and the snapped neck of a full sized Circuit Deer did not even touch the ground from the distance of Wardrums' height. It did however make a rather awful sounding squishy thud that snapped a little yellow mechling back awake when it was thrown to fall to the ground before Dustoff's feet.

Bee shot up with a startled sucked in breath, only Hide's tight grip around him and a low soothing sound from the adopted sire keeping the mechling from likely scrambling away in shock before he pieced together what was going on around him.

Still, a shark spike of fear pulsed through his field and down through his bonds before he could stop it letting every bot around him feel it before he could suck it back in.

It got him a demeaning snort and the annoyed roll of fire colored optics from the towering shuttle standing over to the side of him now.

Bumblebee shrank back down into the safety of Ironhide's grip at the sound and the sight of it. Antennas folding and doorwings lowering.

Wardrums sneered at the display.

"Skittish little runt." War growled down at him earning an answering snarl from several engines around but he just shook his head to all of it. Turning his attention back to Dust who was slowly picking up the limp and still warm frame of what seemed to be their breakfast. "Fry that up if you would, I've got some more looking to do. I'll be back soon."

And just like that the towering mech was gone again. Vanishing back into shadows leaving a collection of mechs and one small mechling staring after him.

Dust clicked his tongue against his teeth, shook his head, and bent to task. Not because his dear mate told him too, but because he was slaggin' hungry for something besides crystals.

When he took one limp leg of the deer in one hand, one in the other, and yanked the frame in two with just a jerk of movement he paused for a moment to consider very wide baby blue optics staring at the limp, now severed frame, leaking in his grasp.

Poor little thing looked like he was going to be sick.

Dust huffed an amused snort. A smirk curling up his lips.

"Come now," He chuckled. "You can't tell me you've never eaten animal energon before."

When the mechling audibly gagged it wasn't just Dustoff that started laughing. But at least Jazz, the twins, and Hide had the manners to be quiet about it.

Bee sank down into his guardian's arms and pouted. Trying very hard not to look at the dripping blue fuel running down Dustoff's hands as he went about _cooking_ a deer.

He was _not_ looking forward to this.

* * *

 **I love Dustoff more then I should. ^-^**

 **I hope you guys liked it! I'm looking forward to seeing what you thought. Thanks for reading!**

 **-Jaycee**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Thank you for reading and reviewing! ^-^ Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 16

"Ewwwwwwwwwwww." Drawing out the word as long as he had breath in his vents Bee ducked his head back under Ironhide's thick arm in an effort to hide himself away from the sight of the cooking circuit deer strung up over the flames while Dustoff lazily spun it.

The big mech found his discuss amusing.

"Am I correct in guessing you've never had _living_ energon before, mechling."

Bee made a gagging sound against the thick armor of Hide's arm, refusing to lift his head while he tried to block out the smell of roasting protoform and sizzling energon.

"Yeah." Sides drawled, amusement rich in his tone, as he sat with his arms draped over his pulled up knees. Staring across the flickering flames at the huge flier with an smirk twisting his lips. "That would be a pretty good guess."

"Raised on processed crystals, huh?" Dustoff snorted. "Now that is no way to live."

"It was alive!" Bee squeaked, still not lifting his helm.

"So are those crystals that are dug up and mined, but you've had no trouble eating them."

Well . . . when he put it like that . . . .

"Umm . . . ."

"Yes, umm." Dustoff chuckled, twisted the dead deer over the fire a few more times until he was satisfied with the smell. Deciding it was cooked well enough, for his tastes at least, and enough so that it was unlikely the mechling would purge it all back up—hopefully—he pulled the large mass back off the cackling fire. Laying it down before him he dug his claws into the still smoking back legs. Tearing one off with a loud, shred that had the mechling gagging and tucking himself back into his adopted sire's chest, the big mech tossed the pulled off limb toward the Prime.

He might not care for the so called entitlement that came with the Prime's name but he did understand bots well enough to know that if the Prime ate, the mechling would eat. That was all Dustoff really cared to analyze at the moment.

"Everything, _everything_ on this world is made of energon. It lives off it. You are no different, but it is alive in any form that it comes in. That is something you're going to have to get use to, my dear sheltered little one."

Bright, baby blue optics dared peak out over Ironhide's arm again. Valiantly ignoring the deep chuckle rolling through the big ebony mech as he sat there in his sire's lap. Watching with morbid curiosity as his Prime caught the deer leg that was tossed at him, setting it in his lap.

And he didn't look grossed out.

Why didn't anybot else get as grossed out with this as he did?

It was weird!

They were going to eat a dead deer for crying out loud!

That was not okay!

Laying his chin on top of Hide's arm he pouted. Watching still as Optimus started shredding a long strip of protoform off the leg strut. The energon inside the once alive creature no longer ran or drip as it had when Wardrums had tossed it to his mate. Now that Dustoff had cooked it the fuel in its tubes had become gelled. It was the only _clean_ way to consume such fuel.

Sure, a bot could drink the energon without cooking it, but more would be wasted as it dripped everywhere then was practical. Cooking made it easier, and turned the fuel purple, so it was less like the bots were drinking what looked like their own lives-blood.

They still were—as every Cybertronian creature did—but it was the thought that counted.

Bee gagged at the smell and hid his face away again.

He was not eating that.

And they couldn't make him.

While he hid away and refused to look he got some fond optic rolls from, Jazz, Hide, and the twins. Two tribe mechs who grew up on such fuel, and two a pair of twins that knew what it was truly like to be hungry, and just what you'd be willing to eat when you were.

They were glad the mechling they called little brother was as picky as he was. Because as long as Bee would turn his nose up at something it meant he wasn't starving. That he never had been.

They're crazy lot had done something right on that respect they supposed.

Still, he was going to have to eat something. So while the Prime handed out strips of protoform it was no surprise that he waited to hand Hide his last. Dust was watching them all from the other side of the flames. Amusement in those pale red optics. Something similar to what the twins felt in the pit of their tanks in those pale orbs.

The huge helicopter watching quietly as the Prime handed the last of the protoform over to Ironhide. The little yellow thing in his arms tensed when the big mech shifted his weight for the scrap, and then burrowed down deeper when his ebony colored sire chuckled lightly. The sound vibrating through all of him before the hand attached to the arm he was hiding in shifted enough to poke lightly at the soft plating around his mechling's rib struts.

"Come on now, Bee."

"Nope." He peeped, sounding vorns younger then he had in a good long while. Refusing to so much as move his doorwings.

Because he wasn't doing it.

No way.

No how.

And they weren't gonna make him.

Ironhide blew out a long breath, rolled his optics, and lifted part of the offered meal to his own mouth. As a tribal mech he'd eaten his fair share of what _civilized_ bots had once called barbaric.

Well, he supposed, hunting down a living creature and then eating the fuel that had once kept it alive, to some would be. But it was the only way his people had lived. The Sea of Rust was not for the faint of spark.

Don't even get him started on the simple truth that once _all_ Cybertronians had been this way. Before mining crystals and the liquid fuel trapped under the surface of the planet had been discovered and then industrialized, hunting was the only way to _get_ energon. Sure, crystals could be found and processed. Even eaten raw if somebot really wanted to—Hide thought they all tasted like chalk that way to be honest—but it was hard to do, hard on systems, and took a lot of work.

That wasn't even including the truth that industrial mining, and forcing bots to do it, is what broke their society in the first place.

Sometimes Hide wondered if they would have all been better off just staying as they had been. As Tribes.

Life sure had been simpler when all they had been more worried about beasts killing them or the weather then slaughtering each other in droves because one group used the other too much.

But then, Ironhide wasn't political.

He was Tribe born, and he solved everything with his cannons. That was why he was a frontline warrior and Prime was the . . . well, _Prime._

"Bee," Hide's tone lowered a little before he shifted the bond in his spark to let his voice drift down the line. _"It is just fuel, my mechling. Different place, same thing."_

 _"No."_ Bee shook his helm against his sire's arm again. _"I don't wanna. It was alive."_

 _"It was an animal, Bee."_

 _Why is that any different?_ He wanted to ask, but the words died before even his spark could make them. Because how did he ask that when he already knew the answer Hide would give them.

That they weren't the _same_ as them.

 _But they are._ Bee whispered to himself. _I know they are._

Unknown to him, considering he was still hiding in Hide's armor, Dustoff sat across the fire watching him closely as he steadfastly refused.

 _Strange._ The old 'coptor thought to himself. _Last time I saw a mech refuse_ this _much it was because of . . . ._

Pale red optics sharpened, the flier straightening ever so slightly as to not draw attention to himself. Because no.

 _No, it can't be._

Ironhide let out another low rumble, shifting the clinging yellow mass against his arm until Bee was forced out of his hiding place. Granted all that did was make the little mech glare at his sire while he steadfastly ignored the hunk of deer protoform still steaming in the big mech's other hand.

That was when Jazz decided to scoot himself a little closer to the pair, his own share of fuel locked between his few pointed teeth until he was leaned around Hide's shoulder looking down at the glaring mechling.

The sight of him with the strip of grey hung in his teeth being lightly sucked on so the silver mech could get the gelled fuel out made Bee gag all over again and fling himself into Hide's chest.

Jazz got smacked over the head, dropped his dinner, and glared at his friend for a long moment until he finally snatched it back up. But this time he did decide to grin at the mechling without the scrap in his mouth.

"Lil' Bee, it's just fuel. Now come on, I know ya gotta be hungry."

"Not one bit." He muttered back into Hide's armor.

"You won't last very long out here thinking like that, little mech." Dustoff finally decided to rumble in again. No little bit surprised when a hauntingly familiar blue gaze peaked back at him ever so slightly. "I told you, you can't eat those crystals long. So come now, the deer is already dead and you didn't even have to hunt it. You do it a disservice by turning your nose up at its sacrifice."

Maybe it was curiosity of the mech himself—because Bee surly had no shortage of that, he was little less then _fascinated_ by the huge flier—or perhaps it was the words themselves. Whichever, Dustoff didn't much care. He was simply pleased when the little mech twisted enough in his adopted sire's hold to look back at him.

"Disservice?"

"Life requires life." And pit, there was so much more to those words then Dust even wanted to begin to touch on with the mechling.

He was too young, and too much rested on his shoulders.

It wasn't fair.

It made Dustoff fit to _rage_ , but he swallowed it all back. For it was not for him to decide. If there was one thing in his life that the old flier had learned it was this; the universe is bigger than you, infinitely bigger, it was better to just try and stop understanding it.

"It always has, it always will. A never ending circle of life and death. Nothing can live without taking or changing another. Maybe that is not fair, but life is far from that. Fighting it hurts more than it will ever help. Life is the way it is, accept it, and honor that which honors you with life."

The mechling stared at him, those big baby blue optics wide in a kind of wonder that made Dust want to sigh and shake his head. Instead, he lifted an optic ridge and shrugged his shoulder.

"I am old, mechling. With age, comes a kind of reasoning. I have seen stars form, live, and die. More than I care to count. I have seen new stars form from the dust left over when the blackhole that claimed that that came before it destroys itself. Everything in this universe, be it big or small, came from something else. Even the universe itself. Life is destruction and rebirth, all wrapped up in the same thing. Life _is_ Death. They are the same thing, they rely on each other, and need—"

"Silence!" The harsh growl was enough to snap the big tan mech's mouth shut. Every optic among them sliding to find the mass of Wardrums silhouetted in the cast shadows of the fire light at the mouth of the cove. The force of one single word seemingly making the very air go tense and the shadows shrink back just a little.

Or maybe it was the sheer anger seething in those fire colored pools of harsh red and raging orange. Optics locked on the form of his mate as he quivered with rage there before him.

Dustoff was not afraid, but that didn't mean he wasn't wary.

"War—"

"I SAID BE SILENT!" The roar seemed to shake the very ground around them to its core, making even Hide's armor tighten down to his protoform. His cannons humming ever so slightly in an instinctual reaction to the tension around him. That and the way the small mech he called son shrank down as much as possible in his arms. Trying to hide, trying to be _invisible_ to the _rage_ that stormed there before them.

It was the movement of hiding that snapped that rage filled gaze to him.

"And _you_!" Stalking forward until the firelight lit him up again. Casting him in an eerie glow that seemed to scream _power_ in a way Bumblebee had never seen before. It made something in him shiver while it also made another part of him pulse. "You—you—you—"

War's claws flexed at his sides, forming fists and clenching them as if he was imagining what plating would feel like under them while his optics _burned_ into Bee's as the youngling couldn't make himself away.

"You pit damned little _bastard runt_!" It came out in a roar that made Bee's plating shake as the huge shuttle hissed through clenched fangs. "What is it? You're too _good_ to suck fuel out of protoform like all the rest of us _animals_ in the desert!? Are you too slaggin' _spoiled_ to _degrade_ yourself in such a way!?"

"Hey!" Sunstreaker's snarl cut War's tirade just long enough for those rage filled optics to flash to the golden mech. The golden mech on his peds with his brother snarling at his side, blades snapped out and gleaming in the firelight as they seethed right back, snarling through clenched teeth at the mech that had made them into monsters. "You leave him the pit alone, you old bastard!"

"What the slag has he done to you, War!?" Sideswipe shouted alongside his brother, itching to bury his blades in the mech, but knowing they wouldn't so much as scratch him.

No, not him.

He might having to end up trying to though, because what he just said. Oh by Primus that proved the _wrong_ thing to say.

For a nano there was silence.

Spark numbing silence as even the rage in Wardrums seemed to quiet. Only for it to then surge back to life with such a ferocity every bot around him _felt_ it.

It was like standing in the face of an explosion. Exposed to a wild fire. Caught in the heat of a super nova.

It pulsed out from in its own _thick_ wave of _heat, anger, pain, rage, denial, HATE_ that it left the twins falling back to the afts from the physical blow of it.

And then, the screaming started.

"What has he done!? WHAT HAS HE DONE!?" Dust was on his peds, but he wasn't going to move fast enough to stop this. Not now, as War almost _glowed_ there like the fire before him. Energy, power, and _feeling_ crackling around him, in his energy field, and in the very air like actual flames.

It was the like of which none of them had ever seen.

It was beautiful, in the way dying stars were before they became something deadly and cold.

"What the pit would the two of you know about anything!" War bellowed, screamed, raged, it was all the same and it was all terrifying. "You slaggin' runaway fools! You disobeyed _everything_ I ever taught you! Did you learn _nothing_!? Did you throw it all away!? And for _what!?_ For _him_!?"

A clawed hand was thrown out and jabbed toward the tiny yellow mechling shaking in his guardian's hold.

"For some little bastard runt that has no right to even be here!?"

Something in Bee snapped, somewhere between the fear and the pain a small spark of rebellion bloomed in the face of that raging inferno in front of him. Catching light and trying to flicker as Bee tripped out over a shivering tongue.

"I-I-I-it's not l-l-li-like a-s-sk to be h-e-here!"

That fire snapped back to face him so fast the spark of fight in him snuffed before it could build, but not because of the rage burning there before, but because of the words he spit out like acid that followed.

"Not like you _asked_!? NOT LIKE YOU ASKED!? Mercy didn't ask for you either you _little bastard_ runt! And yet _here you are!_ You are here and she is not! You are here and she is _dead!_ BECAUSE OF _YOU_! SHE'S GONE BECAUSE OF _YOU_!"

War should have seen the fist to his face coming, and yet he didn't.

One moment he was towering over a tiny yellow mech quivering before him, and then he was laying on his back with energon leaking down from his broken nose and dislocated jaw as his mate _seethed_ there above him. Pale red optics _blazing_ as he stared down at him in . . . _disappointment?_

There was a sound in the silence. Apart from the roaring of Dustoff's flight engines as he seethed there in front of him. Something else.

Something that sounded like . . . sobs.

Fire colored optics darted away from the face of his mate just in time to see a blur of yellow streak past him and into the darkness.

His spark twisted in a way he hadn't felt it do in a very long time, but he didn't have much time to think about it because a heavy ped came down in the middle of his chest.

 _Hard._

The kick knocking all the air from his vents and leaving him gasping, but also staring up at the twisted growl on his mate's faceplate as he seethed.

"Look at you." Dustoff _snarled_ without even raising his voice. It was quiet, and still, and so full of swelling rage. It was _terrifying_. "The great Wardrums; General of the Stars, High King of the Deserts, _last Knight_ of _Cybertron_! You've made a tiny little mechling _cry_. Are you _happy_ now? Did you get what you wanted!? Do you _feel any better_!?"

He spit the last part, voice never so much as lifting a pitch and then, he took his weight away, he turned, and he walked away. After the mechling and the family that had taken him in, cared for him for all these vorns, and were now chasing him down as he ran blindly through the darkness and his tears. Leaving his mate laying there in the growing shadows of the cove as the fire died out leaving him alone in silence and blackness.

It was only after Dustoff's steps faded out into silence that War let his head thump back onto the floor behind him, staring through the tears building in his optics as he let out a pained whispered.

"No."

It was likely Bumblebee would have kept running, blindly and choking on tears, until he'd gotten himself well and properly lost in the darkness had Jazz not been as quick as he was.

Sharp clawed feet chased him in a flash of silver that had been up and after him almost as soon as he'd broke free of Ironhide's grip and ran. However, it still took the silver mech almost a mile to catch him. Smaller, quicker, and driven by the ice like pain gripping his spark he was quicker then most would think. All that wasn't taken into account that Bee could outrun just about everybot around him on a _bad_ orn.

And this . . . this was turning into a very bad orn.

Jazz did finally managed to catch him though. Around a sharp turn that had him tripping up for just a moment, it was enough for the silver mech to reach out, snatch him by the arm, and then refuse to let go.

The noise that came out of the small yellow mech when he did broke Jazz's shark in half, but he still didn't let go. Digging his claws deep into the stone floor below him, and hauling back the little mechling with every bit of strength he had. It ended up putting them both on her afts with a very loud bang, a bang that was then followed by several yelps. Because, turns out, the turn Bee slipped around was the top a very long, slopped tunnel.

Not even rolling down it head over feet was enough to make Jazz let him go once he caught him though.

They ended up at the bottom in what turned out to be another soft blue glowing cavern full of quietly whispering crystals. Enough light that it made Bee squeeze his optics shut trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness after the inky black. Enough light that it forced his processor into focusing on something else so that Jazz was able to bundle him up into his lap, pulling him to his chest, and wrapping arm tight around him so that he had nowhere else to go but to shiver then against the silver plated mech.

Bee's first instinct was fight.

He wanted _away_!

He needed _away_!

His spark hurt, and his chest hurt, and he was confused, and he was scared, and he didn't know _what he had done so very wrong_!

But Jazz's grip was tight. Claws creaking against grooves in thin plating, as Jazz found holds to keep the wiggling, whining, whimpering bundle of yellow in his grip. Chin pressed down hard on the top of his little head where antennas lay pinned painfully down in their grooves in an effort to keep some of the wiggling from turning to flailing. If he hadn't been sitting on his aft in a middle of softly glowing wild blue crystals at the bottom of a big hole that lead . . . somewhere off to the side into another stretch of inky blackness, he might have brought his legs up to pin the little mech between his knees as well. As it was though Bee was being wiggly enough that if he didn't keep his legs pressed hard to the floor he was likely going to lose his grip.

The high pitch whine echoing through his chest as finally—it had been like four nanos but to Jazz, having his Lil' Bee struggling against him, a nano was an eternity—eased up. Not stopping, for the tears soaking against Jazz's sensitive neck cabling was making him swallow back the angry growl roaring in the bottom of his engine, wanting to become heard. Only held back by sheer force of will because the last thing Jazz needed to do right now was make the little mech think he was angry at him.

Angry, yes.

Oh by the power of the Well was he fraggin' angry, but not at Bee. Problem there was, right now, Bee wasn't going to care who the growling was for. If he was upset enough to run from Hide he was upset enough to stop thinking and just react.

Growling was the last thing his little mechling needed right now.

What he needed was to be able to stop wiggling and start clinging. To be wrapped up tight in strong arms and held as tightly as he could stand as he lay there with his faceplate hidden against a familiar chest while he _balled._

Balled his little spark out.

Jazz ground his teeth silently, glaring through the dim blue glow around them. Resting his chin atop his quivering mechling's head, shushing quietly one hand cradling the back of his head while the other was clenched tight at the main joint of his doorwings. Wiggling his own sharp claw tips down between the clenched plating to try and masseuse the tense protoform and cable muscling underneath.

Is was as much an effort to try and dispel some of the tension in the plastered down appendages as it was to give Jazz something to ground himself too while tears pinged against his armor.

All that had taken, maybe two klicks if Jazz bothered figuring it out. For he might be fast enough to _just_ be enough to keep on Bee's heels, but the others wouldn't be that far behind. Optimus had the size—those long legs were good from more than just height after all—to close the distance between them very quickly. Not even his size was going to outpace the twins though.

So Jazz in no way surprised when the sliding on loose stone made his right audio horn twist back to catch the sound of the two mechs sliding down the slope that had put him at the bottom on his hole, on his aft, holding a balling youngling.

He was going to kill that overgrown bastard.

Mark his words.

He was going to figure out a way.

Poison worked on big frames just as well as it did on normal sized bots.

The skidding weight sliding to a stop on both sides of him was enough to make him tilt his head—chin still pressed hard between two pinned antennas. Optics flicking up to take in the familiar shapes cast in an eerie blue glow of crystals. They turned both their bright armor paler then is should be. Making them almost look like ghosts as they stood there staring down at not Jazz but the quivering ball of yellow in his lap.

The echo of his sobs amplified against the silver mech's armor even if the mechling was actually trying to quiet them. It didn't do him much good. His whole frame was making those sounds now.

Something that made every instinct inside all three of the mechs, twist, bend, and roll. Neither frontliner had pulled back their blades. The long, sleek, sharp things glittering there in the blue like wishing for a different tint of blue to be on them.

But Jazz knew for all their bluster since they'd laid optics on the huge shuttle they weren't foolish enough to try that. At least not while their optics were still blue. Now should that coding swimming inside them take hold and turn them into something else Jazz was very much aware they were all going to be trying to save mindless monsters from a fight they wouldn't win.

He was not looking forward to trying to reason that out for them while their optics were red. He was hoping he wouldn't have to.

He wasn't betting on it though.

He knew the two mechs a little too well. He knew just how much of themselves they had given Bumblebee all those vorns ago when they decided getting close to the tiny yellow sparkling in Hide's palm wasn't a bad idea.

Now, well, now they were quivering for a whole different reason then the young thing balling into Jazz's chest and he didn't blame them, but he still had to narrow his optics up at the pair of them to keep their engines quiet and their tongues still.

Sunstreaker quaked with repressed emotion while Sideswipe swallowed visibly, but then they both looked behind them. The heavy, quick steps of three mechs. Jazz closed his optics tight, and then opened them again to find himself looking up at the big ebony mass of one very angry weapons specialist. In the eerie blue glow of underground crystals he looked a good deal older then he really was. The weathered lines of his faceplate stood out along with the new scar that his nanites had yet to fully settle across his right optic.

For some reason, in that moment Jazz took notice of the mark as he looked up at the fellow tribal mech that had been helping him along since they both ended up in Iacon all those vorns ago. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed just how damaged the protoform and brow ridge around that optic were. Ratchet—Jazz knew—had tended to the big mech after the massacre when their home fell out of the sky and Megatron almost pulled off killing them all once and for all.

However, there had been worse—much worse—than one old weathered warrior with a busted optic and a messed up face. Of all the bots among the Autobots Hide had the most scars. The twins were probably second behind him, with Jazz coming up next, but the difference was the twins kept what they could hidden and Jazz had long ago taken to hiding what weaknesses he could just as they did.

Ironhide though, he didn't care.

While Jazz had been born a desert prince that would never be good enough, Hide had been born a normal desert mech. Born to life in a tribe built big and tough. They had been a warrior tribe like all the others, but the region of the desert Hide had been form had been out on the open scorch lands. Jazz had been from the northern plateaus and mountains that ran a ring around that part of the Sea of Rust. It was no less harsh there, but life had still been different.

Out in the open areas of the scorch lands there had been no places to hide. Everything, including the desert itself was out to kill you in whatever way it could. The bots that had made a nomadic life out there possible had been a whole other kind of strong.

Hide was one of the last one of those left.

That spoke for itself in more ways then one.

It also answered the question of why Hide didn't care if he had visible scars. For Hide, in the culture of his tribe, they had been badges of honor the likes of which nothing else was. For scars meant you had survived.

It was likely—for Jazz hadn't been there to hear what had most likely been a very loud argument—that Hide had told Ratchet to care for those that needed his care and not bother with an old warrior who didn't mind a scar. Knowing Ratchet, the medic had hollered quite a lot at his friend before letting him go toe tend to the dying.

The silver mech wasn't sure why it was now that he finally stopped and _looked_ at his old friend to see the new mark along his weathered armor, but he did. Or maybe it was because standing there in the strange blue light the huge mech looked older then he had in a very long time, and that scar didn't do anything to help that picture.

But then, a heavy breath rattled the flared and tense armor all along that huge form and the adopted sire reached down. Bee had been too lost in his own upset to notice the collection of shapes that had gathered around him after Jazz refused to let him go. When that well known energy field along with that large hand closed around his shoulder though he hiccupped on a sob.

Coolant drenched cheeks and shining optics turned enough to follow that thick arm back up to the dark blue optics shinning back at him. This time, when the mechling wiggled for freedom, Jazz let him go.

Another blur of movement and Bumblebee found himself wrapped tightly up in the safest place he knew in the whole damn universe. Thick, cannon wielding arms curled as tightly around him as they dared. His plating creaking with the hold as protoform protested the tightness.

He didn't care.

His legs curled up tightly to his chest as his fingers found all too well known holds in thick armor plating. Burrowing himself in, wishing like he hadn't in a while that he was still small enough to fit inside the groves of the old mech's armor.

He couldn't though, and no amount of wishing was going to change that. Besides, as the big mech let his weight settle down to a seat on the cold stone ground it felt just as safe wrapped up in those thick arms as it ever did hiding in his vault.

Hiding his coolant streaked faceplate into the center seam of Ironhide's strong chest he let himself whimper and whine. Heavy sobs shaking through him every few moments. If it wasn't for the bond link between them being blown wide open and allowed to soak through Bee in everything he needed right now the tears would probably be worse.

As it was though Hide was smothering him in every ounce of warmth he could think of. Letting the little mech he called son swim in it, because if he didn't, that bright ball of life in that little chest might just crack in half.

Because nothing . . . nothing had ever hurt quite like this before.

Nothing was really processing besides that either. Those harshly hissed words echoing darkly though Bee's mind with all the poisonous malus of a viper's bite. He could almost feel the sluggish black venom soaking through him from the words. As if it had been a bite fit to kill and not just the angry growling of a huge old mech.

He just . . . he didn't _understand_.

Why?

What had he done?

He didn't . . . he didn't _mean_ to.

He . . . he hadn't asked for any of this. He hadn't asked to be born. He hadn't asked a femme he . . . couldn't even remember to give him life.

He . . . he didn't know if he was worth that.

If Wardrums was to believed . . . maybe he wasn't.

He didn't know how long he sat there curled tightly to his sire's—and Hide was his sire, he didn't give a damn about coding, just like he didn't give a damn that Mia wasn't coded to him either she was his _carrier_ . . . that made him a horrible being didn't it?

He swallowed hard.

Optics squeezed tight, faceplate pressed hard enough into Hide's chest that it was actually starting to hurt.

He didn't care.

His spark hurt worse, and his processor was spinning, and he just didn't know what the frag he was supposed to be doing.

So long after the sobs had trailed off he still stayed hidden there against Hide's chest. Aching for his sire to take it all away. To make it better. To make his spark stop squealing in his chest, telling him about bonds that weren't there, that should be there. About things he should understand but didn't.

Of stuff that had long since gone numb that now flared with pain like they hadn't since he'd been three vorns old and refusing to eat while all these strange mechs he'd never seen before but had quickly come to trust tried to get him to.

Bee had never . . . _hurt_ for her, not since he was a tiny sparkling at least.

And now . . . now both the knowledge of it pointed out and the phantom pains that came with it, it made his spark burn and his mind roll.

It _hurt._

So he hid in plain sight.

Letting himself be the youngling he was constantly claiming he wasn't. Letting himself be protected, and cuddled, and kept curled up tight. Letting it happen and needing it.

Because he might just come apart at the seams if he didn't.

His spark was a cold kind of burning in his chest. With his optics squeezed shut he could _look_ inward to the links spiraled out of his spark. Hide's; the closest, the thickest, the brightest, the strongest, the one that was woven together with so much emotion and feeling that Bee could watch that bright light of blue life shining in a backdrop of black forever. Jazz's; a paler streak of blue life that curled, spun, and wiggled through the cosmic dark. Full of playful emotions and so very much warmth. Sides and Sunny's; despite what most would think, there wasn't two links for them. There was only one spark between them, divided into two, so there was only one link for the both of them. Strong, braided together in a wild fire kind of burning blue, pulsing and extreme in every way. Even the way they felt about things. Ratchet; one of the calmest kinds of spark that he knew. Ratchet felt and looked a lot like the calm, still water that some planets had. Not like the boiling Mercury Sea of Cybertron. Something like a shallow, cool, backwoods pond of some lush green planet. He was steady, and still, and bright. Strong in a way that first glances lied about. And he felt more then he probably should about all the things his calm blue light linked him too. And then there was Optimus; he shown bright, like a young star, or a full moon. It wasn't the same kind of bright like Hide felt for Bee—though Optimus' link with him was probably the third strongest he had—but it was like it in a way. Optimus was steadfast, ever pulsing, and strong. He was tied to more than most of the time Bee thought should be possible, and yet he could see it for all that it was if he closed his optics and focused inward with his spark.

There were others, hundreds of others to be honest.

Bee knew so many sparks, and no amount of distance between them dampened that. Curled up here now in Hide's lap he could still see the link he shared with Mia. He could feel Arcee, and Elita, and so many others. Jolt, and Flare Up, and Bluestreak, and Prowl. Springer, and Outrider, Hammerdown, and Smokescreen.

He knew where they were, he could feel what they were up to.

It comforted him.

But it was also what was upsetting him.

Because when he looked deeper, he could see sparks he wasn't bonded to as well. He could feeling the living things around himself, and see a great many of them. It was something he spent a lot of time doing lately.

Closing his optics, quieting his audios, and just _looking_ to see what he could find.

He was trying to get better at it, because if he was better at it maybe what happened with the battleship wouldn't happen again. Maybe if he worked hard enough he could find Megatron whenever he wanted as well.

For some reason, he figured that might help them out some orn. Even if Optimus was supposed to be able to do it as well. Megatron had been clouded to his siblings for a very long time now. But Bee did things others couldn't anyway, he figured the same might be applied here as well.

He was letting his mind wonder on purpose right now as well. Trying to focus on something besides the pain in his spark for the ones he was trying not to look at right now. Because he had seen them the moment Dustoff opened himself up and told the mechling to look.

Wardrums hadn't done the same, but he was mated to the huge tan medic and that was more than enough for Bee to be able to see him. And see so much more than _just_ him.

It might have been ten klicks, or it might have been half a joor, to be perfectly honest, Bee didn't know. He also didn't care. That was just how long it took for him to finally calm himself down enough to notice more than his own spark.

He wasn't shocked when he finally noticed what was becoming the familiar feel of Dustoff near. He was shocked that Ironhide had let him be that. While he'd been in the middle of a crying fit it seemed the towering helicopter mech had followed them.

Still sniffling more then he wanted to admit to, Bee twisted enough in Ironhide's grip to get a good look at the big flier sat crossed legged across the dim blue glow of the crystals in this small cavern.

Well.

Maybe they hadn't let him _near,_ after all.

They hadn't run him off though.

That was saying something.

The huge flier sat with his back to a wall, his long roter blades hanging limp behind him. It was hard for a mech of that size to look small, but in this moment Dustoff managed to pull that off. With his elbows balanced against the sides of his knees and his chin held up on his palms he was slumped in a way most proud mechs would never be.

His pale red optics dim in a way that suggested he was paying more attention to what was going on in his mind then he was to the outside world, but when Bee shifted in Hide's grip those pale optics focused once more.

Though he didn't change his posture.

Simply stayed on the outside of the protective circle Bee suddenly realized he was in. Ratchet was sitting next to Hide's left with Jazz on the other. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were pacing—as they normally did when they were upset or angry and had no way to vent other than useless movement—a tight circled around the lot of them. Prowling like caged beasts while Optimus sat just off center of in front of Ironhide. Not blocking the huge flier's view from the little yellow thing curled in an ebony lap, but just a shift of movement meant he could should he so choose.

Problem with that, was this, it wasn't Dustoff Bee was hurting with at the moment. Dust was what Bee had quickly come to associate with him. For the life that burned before him when Bee closed his optics and looked was old, but not dim. He burned like an old blue star. Steady, powerful, but sort of distant. Bright enough that things could thrive around him, but withheld in a way that only time and living could cause.

He was comfortable in a way most new sparks weren't to Bee. There was no needed to feel him out or work through learning him. It was like what Bee had felt the first time he laid optics on him down here in these tunnels.

He was familiar.

He was . . . family . . . in a way Bee had never felt before.

Because he could feel it, if he focused enough. Under that swirling together streak of life cutting through the black cosmic plane of sparks that Bee could conjure up in his mind if he tried hard enough was something he hadn't been able to apply to himself until now.

He'd seen it in other sparks, sure.

Once he'd grown old enough to understand that it was traces of coding that liked sparks on the most basic level to one another. He'd just never had something like that directed at him.

Hide and Mia loved him, were linked to him, like they were his own creators but under it all there was no basic traces of coding that would make it genetic. Bumblebee had never needed that. He was more than happy with what he had, but that didn't mean seeing it now.

 _Having_ it now, wasn't something that his spark was going to cling to.

It was why those venom filed words from a mech that had done nothing but glare and growl at him since they met had hurt quite as bad as they did. Because Dustoff was only linked to him by bonded code, traces of Wardrums' basic code that intertwined with Dust's spark on the most basic of levels because they were sparkbonded. That was why Bee was able to see a coded link between himself and Dust.

Wardrums was the one that was _actually_ related to him through birth coding, not just the drifted coding of bonds. Because his birth carrier . . . she had been _War's_ sister, not Dust's.

But it was War that . . . hated him.

Sniffling, one had lifted to wipe at his nose and rub at his optics, Bee rested his cheek back down against the steady beat on the other side of Hide's thick chest armor. Grateful for the heavy hand atop his pinned antennas and the strong arm wrapped tightly around his back. Ironhide was making a low, echoing sound through his engine. The sound only loud enough for Bee to hear as he pressed up against him but the purpose was the same.

Comforting, reminding.

Bee pressed his cheek harder into the thick armor, keeping his gaze fixed just to the right of Optimus shoulder on those pale red optics that were now focused in on his own.

For a long few klicks the two of them just stared at each other. The fact of it obvious enough that the twins stopped their pacing and turned to attention. What is was the two mechs were waiting on Bee wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Normally when Sunstreaker ground his teeth like that and Sideswipe's optics darkened to that off shade it spelt trouble for whoever it was that deserved—or sometimes didn't—those reactions.

But then, before even Optimus who had twisted just enough to follow his foundling's gaze was pause when Dustoff took a long, deep, slow breath. Letting it out like a flush of flight engines—and maybe that was what he was actually doing, Bee didn't quite know the ins and outs of flight capable bots, he was a grounder after all, no matter the appendages at his back—before the big mech finally spoke.

"Do you know, little mechling, the first time I met Wardrums I punched him in the mouth?"

And Bee . . . blinked for half a moment as they all kind of stalled for a moment at that until Sideswipe let out a harsh snort.

"That is oh so very fulfilling to hear! You have no fraggin' idea how much I've never got what the frag you dealt with him for, for all these damn vorns!"

Sunstreaker grunted an agreement.

"That's funny," Dustoff's gaze flickered to the twins, narrowing a little voice dropping from the tired tone it had held to something brittle and dangerous. Something Bumblebee hadn't heard from him before. "Coming from a twin born tied to that glossed up, selfish, trigger happy, mental case."

Sunstreaker stiffened as did Sideswipe. A dark light flashing through both their optics before suddenly there were sneering, growls low in their engines. Bee tensed at the sounds as did Ratchet to Hide's side but Dust went on before any of them could do anything.

"Don't forget who it was that raised the two of you, mechs. Don't forget the real reason you got out that night. Don't forget how many times I _leaked_ to keep you alive."

And just like that, the anger went out in a whoosh from the pair of them. A heavy vent and they sagged a little. The shortest of glances shared between them before two of the proudest mechs Bee had ever known bowed their heads and looked away.

"Dust—"

"No!" The big mech hissed quietly cutting Sideswipe off, pale optics narrowed and . . . hurting? "You have forgotten more than just what War hissed at you trying to keep you alive. You have forgotten how much I cared about you, and all I did trying to save you! And now you can shut your damn mouths and let me try to fix something that has been broken longer then you could possibly begin to understand! Because I no more chose being bonded to Wardrums then you two did being born mated to each other! Don't you dare insult me by saying otherwise!"

The twins sank down to their afts like scolded hounds. Tucking themselves down and bowing their heads just to the side of Ratchet. Though the odds of them ending up there should not have surprised Bee he was a little shocked of how they got there so fast.

The huge tan flier snorted hard at the pair of them, optics still narrowed until he shifted his gaze once again to rest on Bee. They softened once they were there. Becoming tired and old again so quickly that Bee had to straighten up and shift around to look at it. He wasn't quite brave enough to leave the safety of Ironhide's arms—not that the way his sire squeezed him made for the impression he had any plans on letting go—but he didn't really think he would need to.

Not with the way Dustoff sat there, hunched in on himself looked hurt, and sad, and tired. Old in a way Bee had never seen before. One that made his spark hurt in a whole different way. For he wanted to make it stop somehow. To take some of the weight that seemed settled on those strong shoulders and let this mech _breathe._

Bee didn't think Dustoff had been _breathing_ for a very long time.

The feel of him now . . . it was stagnate . . . .

It felt wrong.

Vorns, upon vorns, upon _vorns_ all piled up onto of him. Full of pain, and anger, and lose. He was a mech built to fix things but it seemed Dustoff had long ago lost the ability to do that. Now, it was almost like he was scrambling for something even he didn't know. Saving what he could along the way while he himself sank deeper and deeper into something Bee didn't know if he'd be able to pull himself out of.

He . . . didn't like it.

He wanted it to go away.

Because Dustoff, he didn't deserve that. He was meant for more than that.

That much Bee was sure of. Because he could _see_ it.

"What do you mean?" Bee dared whisper. "About not having chose him?"

A humorless chuckle left the huge 'coptor. Dust straightening up just enough for the struts in his back to crack. He gave a shake of his shoulders after the sound, attempting to rattle whatever strut that was back into place. Another heavy breath, a moment of squeezed tight optics, and then he was looking at Bumblebee again. That old look back in his optics, but this time it was a little different.

Still tired, still drained, but wise again. Wise and almost, sadly amused.

"Mechling, no bot _chooses_ to love another. No more than any of us choose to come into this universe or normally leave it. Fate, destiny, a greater plan; call it whatever the slag you like. Or do as War does and call it all nonsense, the point remains the same. Life drags us all along down this damn screwed up road whether we like it or not. You can fight it, you can ride it, or you can do a little bit of both, and that is the only choice you are ever truly given. So make it well, you only get to make it once. What I mean though, little mech, is just that. I no more chose for my spark to fall for that big, angry, over entitled, fool with the emotional capacity of a straw then you did to be born. But they happened anyway now didn't they? I won't regret what was oddly enough the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Because I do, love the bastard that is, even when I can't remember quite why that is sometimes. Fun fact of that little deal though, little mech, _loving_ somebot doesn't mean you have to _like_ them all the time. And frankly, I am quite entitled to punch the big fool in the mouth when he goes and makes an aft out of himself _again_ and I must once again go and try and fix it for him before he destroys every chance of happiness he could possibly hope for and succeeds in alienating himself from the whole damn universe. Which, for some reason he seems to think he wants to do now that all this slag has gone to, well, slag to be honest."

Dustoff gave a shake of his head and almost a fond smile as he paused then went one.

"I've told you mechling, old as star dust over here. And War, he's older than _me._ A good deal older than me, and time has done nothing but take, and take, and take, and take from him. And now, it's set up to do it again. He wants to pretend he doesn't care, mechling. He wants to pretend he isn't afraid, or hurting, or tired, but he can't lie to me, my young mech. I know him better than anything ever will. I don't regret that. What I regret is always waiting until he's dug himself into another grave he might not be able to work himself out of before I step up and make him shut his damn mouth. Not because of what he really thinks, but because he is _incapable_ of actually talking about what his spark really wants or feels. Like I said, first time I met him, I socked him square in the jaw. Big idiot of a prince who thought he was _better_ than some knew infirmary medic apprentice who got tricked into treating him, or at least trying to. First time he called me an incompetent youngling, I let it go. Second time? I broke his nose, and then I let him sit there and whine about it while I fixed what he was there for to begin with. Let him leave with his head down and noseplate still leaking after I was finished though, because I wasn't fixing that. Would you believe me if I said he _requested_ me every time he got his stupid aft in the bay after that? Would you also believe me if I said the idiot's idea of asking to court me was dropping a dead Bison's head on my desk? Yeah. This is what I'm working with here. Believe me, young one, I'm mated to him. I know. And I know, after all these vorns I'm likely to be hitting him in the face a few more time at least, but he'll do the same for me when I need it. It's just how some of us are. He's an aft, no two ways about that, but I can be too if you push my buttons just right. We are old, and tired of this mess we have been living in too long. It's no excuse but it is a fact. You'll figure him out, Bumblebee, you just need a little time. And I'll give it to you, best as I can, if you want it."

Bumblebee was quiet for a good long time after that, though Dustoff would have taken no less for what he bared.

So instead of worrying with the far off look that came to those optics that haunted his sparkmate so he just watched him. Let the little mech tuck his chin and settled back down into the safety of the big black tribal brat that watched Dust much like the others did while the youngling was distracted again.

He didn't care.

They had as much a right to an explanation as Bumblebee did. After all, they were the ones that had taken him in. Had cared for him. Had _saved_ him.

Had done what . . . Dust and War couldn't.

And he knew, deep down, nothing was fixed. He had saw the pain settled deep in that spark by the way those optics had dimmed as War hissed things at a mechling too young to understand the placement of such anger, and who in no way deserved it.

He knew it wouldn't be this easy, but he hoped.

Still, when those big bright baby blue optics turned to him again. Full of coolant once more and so very many questions he braced himself for what was likely to hurt.

"Why," His voice caught on the word, halting and full of fear and pain, the likes of which one so little should not know. "Why does he _hate_ me so much?"

Well, at least Dustoff wasn't disappointed in the little thing.

He told himself that so he could pretend the words didn't hurt quite as bad as they really did.

He swallowed the first response that came to him.

Then he did the same with the second.

Finally, after three nanos that felt far too long to him he figured he could get his tongue to work like he needed it to. A short, hard breath rushed through his vents as she shook his head back and forth one short hard time as he breathed out.

"Oh, youngling, he doesn't hate you."

 _He hates himself._ But Dustoff couldn't tell the youngling that. He wouldn't understand, it was likely he wouldn't understand any version of the truth, but that one he knew would do the most damage. So, Dustoff figured his best bet was to lay it all out the best he could.

The youngling's whole life had been made up of small and big lies up to this point anyway. He really didn't want to add to them.

Not now.

Not about this.

"He . . . War is . . . He . . . ." Well pit, how exactly was he supposed to explain this?

Swallowing hard Dustoff let pale red optics lingered on those haunting baby blue optics staring so earnestly up at him. Begging for an answer. For a reason and a cause.

Well, he had told himself he wouldn't lie.

It would hurt, but then, Dustoff was a medic by nature. He knew all too well sometimes you had to rebreak the strut to be able to set it right so that it could truly heal.

"Wardrums doesn't hate you, Bumblebee. Wardrums looks at you, and he sees a ghost. He looks at you and he sees every way in which he ever failed." Pain filled those bright blue optics again, and Dustoff prayed Mercy—wherever she was out there in the folds of the universe and what came after—didn't hate him too much for that. "And that is not fair, nor is it right, but it is a fact, little one. One you need to know or you will never understand. Because that is just the way he is. You . . . pit be damned . . . you look _just slaggin' like her_! Those damn optics."

The optics in question, still swimming with coolant, dared lift again to find pale red. That, and to find more of an answer, because it hurt. It hurt to know that the mech that might be the only _real coded_ family he had left couldn't stand to look at him because he was a reminder. However, it . . . it also made a kind of sad sense he supposed.

"You _are_ her, little one. And we _lost_ her, because we weren't good enough to save her. To save _you._ We _lost_ Mercy's only son. It's something . . . neither of us have ever gotten over. Likely never will. Because she is gone, and we can't change that, just as we couldn't keep you. That will always hurt us. It will always hurt him, and War . . . he doesn't deal with pain he can do nothing to stop very well. He lashes out when he is angry and he points his pain at others trying to make himself feel better. He doesn't _blame_ you, Bumblebee, I need you to understand that, but that doesn't mean he is able to handle you very well either."

Bumblebee sat there chewing on his bottom lip in Ironhide's lap after the big tan flier went quiet. He seemed to have nothing else to add for now. Letting Bee take in his words and trying to sort through them.

All the youngling could come up with though, was a quiet confession he'd kept locked away in his spark all these vorns. Because he'd never known how to say it, let alone how to talk about it.

He'd been too afraid of the truth of it. Of what it would make him.

Now though, maybe now he could.

"You know, I didn't even know her name." It came out in a tiny whisper, hardly audible but every audio around him caught it any way. Bumblebee wouldn't let himself focus on his family at the moment though. For now, he had to watch Dustoff. He had to know what those pale optics were saying. "I don't . . . I don't even remember what she looked like. I just . . . I _try_ , you have to believe me, I _try._ But I just . . . I don't. That . . . that makes me a horrible bot right? That I forgot her."

A sad smile curled the edges of Dustoff's lips as he sighed. "Oh little mech, you were three vorns old. What could you be expected to remember but a shadow of a memory? Especially when something else, much brighter, takes pains place. What, did you think I would be angry you haven't spent all these vorns _aching_ over her? You think she would have wanted that?"

"But War—"

"But War is an aft. Plain and simple." Dustoff cut him off with a firm tone. "Get used to it, mechling. It's not likely to change. Even if he likes you he's an aft."

"But . . . Mercy . . . ."

"Bumblebee," Dustoff said firmly, those pale red optics blazing with something Bee had a hard time pinning down. It was both pride, and pain. Both hope and sadness. All wrapped up into one glow in those pale optics that Bee wasn't sure what to make of but found hard to look away from all the same. "Your carrier loved you. More than _anything_ else in this whole universe. More than life itself. Because, mechling, she had nothing more to give than that chance that you might live, so that was what she did. Too many bots in this universe forget just how far a carrier will go for their sparkling. So yes, she died so that you might live, but that was what she wanted. No bot can blame you for that. Not even War, I'll see to it, so don't you even start. That was not your fault."

A heavy chunk of ice that had curled around his spark before he started running suddenly came loose with a whooshing of breath. The bright pulse of life in his chest calming down from the worked up pace it had gotten itself into.

The pressure in his chest eased with it. His vents relaxing as his processor slowed down.

And then, with his optics brightening he asked. "Would you tell me about her?"

Dustoff finally let out a _real_ smile as he twisted a hand down to reach into his subspace. "Might be more fun to show you."

* * *

 **Well it hurt and then it got a little better, didn't it?**

 **War and Bee have a lot to work through before the big fool is able to do more then growl, but at least Dustoff is capable of talking. Primus help them all if he wasn't.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! I'm looking forward to seeing what you thought.**

 **See you next chapter!**

 **-Jaycee**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Enjoy! ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 17

Bumblebee sat, crossed legged like a sparkling, in his sire's lap staring down at the hardcopy photo that had been handed to him . . . well quite a while ago actually.

He wasn't sure, when he asked, just what he had been expecting, but somehow he figured no matter what it might have been he likely wasn't going to be ready for it. Turns out he was right, but it also turns out he was wrong.

Dustoff had seemed to know that he'd mentally shut down for a while after the first. Bee didn't really know how he knew that. Maybe being a medic older then the planet you were standing on had some upsides.

Yeah.

He kind of supposed that might be the reason.

Whatever it really was though, the huge helicopter mech had come across the distance between them, slipped between the wall of family watching him closely, and just handed over the picture. The one that he'd pulled from subspace with the flick of a habitual movement. Not one he had to dig for, or so much as think to find. One he had had on hand.

For vorns more then the young mech could comprehend. For it was how long he had been alive, but the prospect of that was so big he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

He was trying, mind you, but it wasn't easy.

His whole life, secretly because he was ashamed, he'd wondered. He _tried_.

For the slightest hint of a memory.

A mere glimpse of an image long forgotten to time and youth.

To just remember what she had _looked_ like.

But he hadn't been able to.

He hadn't _remembered_ her.

Not the sound of her voice, or the look of her face, or even her name. The femme that had carried him, birthed him, and then died for him. The femme he had forgotten her to the recesses of a sparkling's mind.

It was a shame that had been buried down inside him, deep enough that even Hide and Mia couldn't find it, for as long as he'd been with his family. Because as happy as he was, he still wondered about her. He couldn't say he missed her, not anymore, but then, he had never known her.

It was like missing a stranger in the crowd to him now. He missed an idea more then he missed her.

Sitting here now with his optics locked on a glossy but worn with time photo he hated himself a little bit for that. Because there on that faded glossy photo was the brightest femme he'd ever seen. Not in color, no, for his natural color was a bright as her and bright he might be but not the brightest. No, it was the glow of life that he could see even in a vorns old photo damaged and faded with time.

In the photo sat a bright yellow femme. Small, for the age and place she had come from. Not much bigger then Chromia to be honest. She was lean, and thin on all aspects of her, but the curves that made her up worked well with it. Curled up in a ball as she was on what looked to be an old chair in the back corner of a dark room it was hard to see the two sets of doorwings that hung behind her back, but he made them out all the same. Thinner, and smaller than his, but there all the same.

Her optics, framed in the same yellow and silver protoform he had, were the same as his as well.

He guessed he could understand what Dustoff meant now. When he said Wardrums looked at him and saw a ghost.

He supposed they did look almost identical.

His spark felt funny in his chest.

"That's me." He said it almost on accident, after he had sat tracing his thumb around the image of the brightly smiling femme not at all paying attention to the camera that had taken the picture of her. She was instead smiling with those brightly shining blue optics down to a tiny bundle of yellow wrapped up carefully in an old blue blanket.

The sparkling was just as easy to see as she was in the picture. The way she held him up so close to her chest while she stared down at him meant that tiny waving hands could be seen as well as a giggly face and the bright blue optics shared between them.

Dustoff made a low sound deep in his throat. It might have been an agreement, it might have been a purr, it might also have been pain. It was such a complex kind of sound that Bee didn't know what to make of it, but after what had to be several klicks of just staring blankly at the photo in his hand he lifted his gaze to find the big flier sitting just across from him beside Optimus. Those pale red optics watching him closely as he nodded.

"Yes."

He looked back to the photo, and then he pointed out, as if it was an important thing. "I was tiny."

Jazz snickered beside him before he could help it. Then, suddenly, Sideswipe leaned over Hide's other arm and snatched up the photo from him. "I wanna see tiny Half Pint!"

"Hey!" Bee snapped, suddenly coming to life again in Hide's arm as he made a mad scramble for the photo. Sides just snickered at him, a part of his spark lifting at the sudden movement of the little mech again. The dazed still he'd been in had not so secretly been freaking the twins out.

Bee didn't do still, nor quiet. Not unless something was seriously wrong with him. The little mech was motion, noise, all the time. He was . . . life. He was what life looked like to the lot of them at least.

A reminder.

A promise.

A hope.

One they would die for without even a first thought let alone a second.

"Give it back!" Bee shouted as Sides danced out of reach, chuckling the whole time for Bee got himself caught by a quick black hand around his scruff bar when he accidently kneed Hide in the gut.

The twins ignored him, hovering there on the other side of Ratchet as they both bent over the photo when Sunstreaker snatched it from his younger brother.

"Give me that, you're going to hurt it."

"Was not!" Sides snapped at him.

"Probably would, and then Dust would have shot you and I'd have to do something about it."

"If Dust shot me there wouldn't be anything for you to do about it." Sides snarked back. "We'd both be dead."

"All the more reason." Sunstreaker drawled back with a huff, turning his attention down to the photo. "Pit. It really _is_ possible you were littler then I remember, Half Pint."

Caught where he was in Ironhide's hand sprawled across the other cannon wielding arm Bee pouted rather dramatically while he glared up at the big frontliners.

"Afts." He muttered under his breath, still pouting at them when they just winked back at him.

"Give me that!" Ratchet's hand snaking up to snatch the photo away from the two mechs who growled back only to have one long glare from the medic shut them up and leave them sitting down like scolded pups on both sides of him.

For a moment after that Ratchet went on glaring at the pair of them, looking as if he was contemplating smacking them, until finally he gave a hard snort and turned his own attention down to the small photo.

Bee let out and exasperated whine.

Dustoff chuckled.

"You know, little mech, I have more."

Popping up like a spring crystal the tiny mechling _beamed_ and the huge 'copter took to laughing as he dug into his subspace again.

* * *

And so Bee looks.

He looks, and he touches, and he stares but he stays silent for a long time. With his head tucked under Hide's chin, or maybe Hide's chin tucked onto his head, he stayed snuggled against his sire's chest letting the big mech look along with him. Jazz is curled up—almost perched to be honest—on Hide's arm looking over the photos as well. Ratchet had come to sit close to Hide's other side with the twins in tow and finally Optimus picked himself up and came to sit behind them all. His height meaning he could just lean over them to get a look at everything. The fact that he was more or less wrapping them all up in the process just settles them all down another notch.

They seemed wary in a way Bee's spark flickered about. Uneasy and nervous, but he's not paying attention to that at the moment. He's too busy looking, and trying to remember.

Dustoff—still sitting across from the all—looked content to just let him do that for a while. The whole _telling_ part the little mech had asked for apparently something he thinks he should wait about.

Maybe that is for the best though.

After everything Dustoff had said to make him stop crying before moving onto of these photos, he knows he's more than a little emotionally overwhelmed. And then . . . kind of not.

Its . . . weird inside him as he sits there looking at pictures. Unconsciously nudging at Hide every few moments getting a low rumble and a hard press to the top of his head back. His bonds were more or less open, at least as open as he'd let them get since before with Star, flowing and bright between the mechs around him. Warm, patient and curious. It was through those bonds that he could feel the flickers in their emotions they didn't so much want him to know about.

He didn't figure they were meaning to though.

It didn't feel like they were at least.

"See what I meant now?" Bumblebee wasn't quite sure how long he had been sitting there quietly again flicking through photos. Photos of Mercy smiling, Mercy working besides Dustoff, Mercy curled up against Wardrums' side the both of them in recharge, Mercy with a tiny sparkling him curled up on her chest, Mercy standing him carefully on the floor in front of her trying to see if he could stand on his own, tiny him laying in a pile of blankets cooing as he reached for the camera, tiny him chewing on a blanket with just her hand wrapped around him in the photo, Mercy standing on what looked like a ship looking out the window at the blankness of space before her.

In some of the photos he could tell she was very young, in some she looked older then he could comprehend, but when she smiled as she held him she beamed with a brightness he wondered if others saw in his optics when he did the same.

She was like a little sun that had dropped down from the heavens to spin and glow in the presence of lesser, duller things. She was so _bright_ when she was smiling at that camera or smiling down at a tiny him.

How had he forgotten that?

Why was it that even as he sat there staring at a memory of her image burnt into a photo he still couldn't link her up to a thing inside his spark?

Slowly, optics still set on the pictures in his lap he nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Resemblance is uncanny." Dustoff's voice tilted in amusement enough that Bee had to look up at him to find he was smiling down at him again. That sad fog to him still hung but it was dimmer now. As if sitting there looking at him look made the old flier feel better or something. "Kind of a hard thing for the two of us to see, but that doesn't make it your fault. War's got no right to blame you for that, little mech. Mercy made her own choices when it came to you and she never regretted them."

"I can't . . . remember her." He whispered it, sinking deeper into Ironhide's hold as he did. Grateful of the big strong arms that tightened around him as he did. The steady pulse of warm, strong life beating in the chest behind him and in the warm lines of the bond steadily shining between them.

"I know." Dustoff replied quietly. "But you were just a little thing when she was gone."

"Feels like that is something I should remember though . . . isn't it?"

"Mechling," Dustoff sighed, drawing his attention again as he scratched at his jaw. "Do you understand coping mechanisms?"

"Coping mechanism?" His antennas twitched. "Well yeah, but what does that—"

"Not mental ones, mechling." The huge tan helicopter shook his helm. "Spark ones. Things a bot's spark does to keep itself stable. Do you know what those are?"

Bee blinked back at him.

"Yeah." He huffed, with a warm roll of pale optics. "I'm gonna take that as a no."

He then shifted his gaze to Ratchet who sat quietly beside Ironhide with the two terrors of twins Dustoff had kept alive for so many vorns more or less hiding behind him. He knew the two terrors probably thought he wouldn't recognize the actions for what they were, but he had been watching them just as closely as he had been watching Bumblebee. He knew who it was that had picked the two of them up and helped them learn they could become something other than the killers War had turned them into.

He knew a debt he owed to this young medic, even if the bot didn't know it yet.

"Medic," He addressed only to get scowled at.

"Ratchet," The yellow and red mech grunted a correction.

"Ratchet," Dustoff amended, doing his best to hide his amusement as he titled his chin. "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Ratchet huffed at him, looked more offended than anything else while he twisted away from the flying mech to pin his optics on a still uneasy youngling that he had been taking care of since they found him.

Yeah.

There were many debts Dustoff owed this medic.

"Spark coping mechanisms, Bee, are instinctual kind of things. Most of the time your frame and processor don't even know they are happening. It's another one of those things sparks do that science really has no idea how it happens, but most of the time it is a self-preservation impulse. Most fully mature sparks stop doing it because by that time they've become accustom to . . . well life. Immature sparks though—younglings and sparklings—are not. They simply haven't had enough experience with the world to know how to be. They don't handle trauma well because the truth is they shouldn't have to. They aren't steady enough in their own source of life to be. So, spark coming mechanisms as we call it are the things young sparks do to handle trauma before they become fully mature."

"Oh." Nodding as Ratchet spoke the young mech thought he was understanding. "Okay, but what does that have to do with why I can't remember her?"

"It has everything to do with it." Dustoff told him softly. "You were three vorns old, mechling. And your carrier bond shattered, you're _only_ creator bond. That . . . does things to sparklings. It can kill them, in many cases, but in some cases _if_ the sparkling's spark finds something else to cling to then the spark copes the only way that makes sense to it. It replaces old links and pain with new links and life."

"Bee," Ironhide rumbled behind him after Bumblebee sat for a klick or two after that just glancing between the medics. Waiting until those big baby blue orbs lifted so that the small mech was tipping his helm back to stare at his adopted sire, Hide let his own much dark blue optics search that young faceplate. He knew ever curve and line of it. He knew just what was going on inside the younglings mind to make his antennas flicker or move a certain way. He knew how to read when one of those smiles he wore was real or if he was trying to make it seem that way. He knew every pitch and tilt to that voice and what each one meant. He knew where his dimples were without his cheeks moving to make them.

He knew the spark that shown so brightly inside him.

He knew it like he knew his own, like he knew his mate's.

He knew it like he would know a spark that had come from his own. Because he didn't care who might have done the coding and kindle donning that went into this little mech. He didn't _care_.

Bumblebee was _his_ mechling.

He had been, since a three vorn old sparkling he had found in a pile of trash in the middle of a battle field and carried home had realized his carrier was gone and mentally shut down. Since he had sat silent and shivering in the hands of who ever held him, refusing fuel of any kind. Since the little life had been withering until it finally decided to reach out and cling to the spark Hide and the others offered.

Since it reached out and took hold of Hide like nothing had in a very long time at that point.

Since he adopted the little mech into his spark and claimed him as his.

"You don't remember when I found you, do you?" Ironhide asked him quietly.

Bee shook his head.

Yeah, Hide hadn't thought he would. And while that should be enough to prove Dustoff's point it wasn't. Because sparks remembered. When all else was gone, _sparks_ still remembered. Bumblebee knew that. He knew that probably better than anyone else ever could. That little spark of his did quite a few strange things.

"Well," Hide went on. "When we found you and brought you home you figured out she was gone. You did what any sparkling would do with that reality, you shut down, Bee. We tried to get you to eat let alone speak and you wouldn't. Your spark didn't know how to cope so it was shutting down. Only reason you didn't die is because you latched onto me. Me, Jazz, Optimus, and Ratchet. Pit even those two terrors."

The jab of a finger at the twins got him a chorus of 'hey!' before Ratchet smacked them and told them to be quiet.

Bee giggled at them, and considering that was probably what the twins had been trying to accomplish in the first place Hide let it go.

The short giggle wasn't long lived through as Bee took in that bit of information. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought. Antennas flexing up and down even though he had no idea they were doing it before he finally muttered.

"So that's why I don't really remember her, even when I try. Because my spark took you mechs in replacement for the shattered bond?"

Ironhide nodded slowly, as those big optics turned to him curiously again. Part of the old ebony colored mech fearful of admitting the truth as he sat here in the face of a mechling he called his coming to terms with coded family being presented to him again. He knew to Bee the fact that he shared code with none of them didn't matter.

This was a family.

As messed up and broken as it was.

This was his family and the little mech had proved already what he was willing to do to keep it. However, that didn't mean Dustoff, Wardrums, and the memory of Mercy finally stepping into his life wouldn't change things.

No matter how much of an aft the big black and gold shuttle made of himself every bot sitting around this circle knew the nano something shifted in those fire colored optics into something besides resentment Bumblebee would throw himself at it. He was already fascinated with Dustoff. All the 'Bots could see it. For the answers he held as well as the mystery, and because the big 'copter seemed to actually really like him.

Ironhide knew it wasn't right that he hated that.

He _knew_.

But he didn't care.

Because Dustoff could make all the excuses he wanted. It wouldn't change the fact that he and that overgrown shuttle had let a helpless sparkling slip through their grasp. That he would have died out there alone in a war zone where no bot would have known, let alone cared.

It didn't change the fact that Ironhide was terrified of what the two of them would do now that Bee had found them. Because if there were any creatures on this damned planet that were tied into the Guild it was these two.

"Oh." The small youngling muttered, doorwings twitching behind his back while he leaned his head back down to rest in the center of Ironhide's thick chest armor. The big black painted mech had no problems with letting him. Simply sitting there and watching his youngling process things that should have been addressed long ago had they not hid them from him.

Finally Bee shifted again, glanced at the photos, and then slowly lifted them to hold them out to the big coper again. Dustoff lifted an optic ridge in question while he made no move to try and reach for the photos being held out to him.

Confusion flickered in Bee's field before he asked. "Don't you want them back?"

"I have more, mechling." Dustoff shrugged. "Besides, you want to keep them don't you?"

 _Yes._ He whispered to himself. _I just didn't think you'd let me. I'm not sure I deserve to. I . . . ._

"I forgot her." He whispered it, the words twisting with as much shame as was burning in his mind right now. Shame that he had done it, but also shame that his spark didn't want to take it back. That he didn't want to take it back. Because he loved Hide and Mia for the creators that they stepped up and became. And he loved all the others for the family they let him have when they didn't have to.

His spark had let Mercy go so that it could have something living.

He was hurt by it, but he was hurt more by the fact that his spark didn't really seem to care. Logically his processor knew he should feel bad about it, but his spark didn't. It had bonds and . . . something else. He was too busying poking at his own past to wonder what that was at the moment though.

"No." Dustoff rumbled, deep voice pulling Bee from his thoughts before they could spin even lower. "Not forgotten. Not now."

It wasn't a lot, it wasn't enough, but somewhere deep inside a young spark some of the pain eased and Bumblebee breathed a little easier. Nothing changed, but then again, something did. Snuggled into Ironhide's chest he sat back and nodded slowly to the towering tan mech with the pale red optics.

Maybe he hadn't known her, maybe his spark had let her go to be replaced with something else so he'd live, but that didn't mean he could never know her. It didn't mean she was forgotten forever.

His hand tightened around the cluster of photos before every so slowly he tucked them away in his subspace for safekeeping. He then tipped his chin up again to hold those pale optics as he asked.

"So . . . _will_ you tell me about her now?"

Slowly, Dustoff smiled.

* * *

His birth carrier liked poetry.

She loved crystal-keets and kept hundreds throughout her young life. She smuggled them between the war ships she called home her whole life until they finally reached this Cybertron. The New Cybertron to Dustoff, but the only one Bee could wrap his mind around. She had been extremely shy, quiet, and reserved. She spent her life in the shadows of powerful brothers who guarded her from a universe at war but in doing so made her scared of being herself on her own most of the time.

But she had been happy.

Bright and shining when one managed to coax a real smile out of her.

According to Dustoff there hadn't been a mean strut in her frame. Which was apparently very funny to him considering she came from the family she did. She had been considered a runt among their kind back then—and didn't that make War's picked name for Bee all the more telling—but it had never bothered her.

Her size meant she went unnoticed and for a femme who liked the quiet company of herself that had worked in her favor.

Shy, she might have been, but Dustoff told him with a smile on his lips again just how much trouble she could get herself into that her brothers had to bail her out of time and time again. She had had this bad habit of trying to see the best in others which got her in more the a few tough places over her life.

As Dustoff went on to a wide opticed youngling a picture formed of a slightly timid, more often than not quiet, kind sparked femme who cared for the brittle, breakable things in a world of war and fighting all around her. Slightly spoiled more often than not and reliant of those who were bigger and stronger than her but cared for her greatly to get her out of the trouble she found herself in. She had been happy as often as possible, loved music, and words, and to watch colors sparkle in the seemingly vast empty blackness of space.

And when their world eventually crumbled around them leaving nothing but her, War, and Dust she had been the thing that kept the two big mechs going. Because, as Dust told it, she would smile even with the shadows choked them. Quiet, as she always was. Just a bright spot of glimmering life in the blackness that surrounded them until both mechs remembered they still had something to fight for.

However, it was with a great bluntness that Dust explained to the little mech that Mercy herself had hated fighting. Every aspect of it. She'd been called a coward many times in their old world order because she wouldn't fight. But she had been a healer by nature and refused to do damage to others. She refused to fight, even when she probably should have.

It was, in fact, only Bumblebee that Mercy had ever fought for.

He was the thing that stiffened her spine and made her hold her ground. For the first time in her life.

Mercy had let the world rage and battle around her all her life, taking chunks of her more often than not because she wouldn't fight it, but when he came along suddenly Mercy found something she would fight for. Something she would die for.

Bumblebee felt both honored and confused by that, but the last emotion came more out of a lack of ability to understand because Bumblebee might be small, bright, and bubbly, but inside him was a willingness to fight.

He could understand not wanting to hurt others, but he couldn't understand standing back and letting bad things happen around him.

No.

He would fight the shadows. He would do battle for the light. He would not wait for others do it for him.

Bee was a fighter.

He always had been.

Overall though, he could see as the tale Dustoff told of a bright, quiet femme where she was in him. In more than just the way he looked.

It warmed him in a way he hadn't been expecting. The end of the story leaving him cross legged there in Ironhide's lap staring up at the huge helicopter mech with wide, curious optics. Drinking in all that was being said until finally the huge mech lapsed over into silence. Those pale red optics staring down at him with a fond glimmer.

Waiting.

Because he knew very well what came next.

There had been a lot in there, a lot to explain that he just brushed around, and he was coming to see that brushing around something would never satisfy this little mech. He wanted the truth, and he wanted it now. He wanted to _know_.

It was a trait he did not get from his carrier.

Mercy had been passive her whole life until she finally found something she was willing to fight for. This little mech though, this little mech was not like Mercy in that way. Much of her shown in him, and Dust was content in the knowledge that now he knew that. However, the truth was he might look like her, and shine like her, and be bright like her, but inside him was the spark of a fighter. A spark he didn't get from his carrier.

Oh no.

That spark came from the same coding, yes, for she had had it too. She had never been like her brothers though.

She had never had the spark of a Knight.

Bumblebee though, this little mech did.

Then, finally, just like Dustoff knew they would. The questions came.

"Wait . . . ." Perking up, antennas flickering, Bee made a face before locking his gaze with Dust's again. "You said _brothers_. Plural."

"Yes," The old mech nodded. "I did."

Bee blinked.

As did all the mechs around him.

Dustoff's smile turned a little sad at the question in those bright blue optics staring up at him as he softly said. "Wardrums had other siblings too, young mech. Royal families tend to do that. He was the eldest and so the heir, Mercy was the youngest and the only femme. Born after our world died. There were other brothers also though. All twelve of them."

Bee's jaw dropped a little bit. "Twelve?"

"Yes," Dust nodded. "Twelve. You can just imagine how annoying my life as royal medic was, huh? On the bright side though none of his brothers were quite as annoying as War. Most of the time. Granted, Steelbane was bad if he got bored, but considering how many of them there were boredom didn't happen often. The most trouble they ever caused me was when they combined. Damn frustration that dragon was, and hive minds get fraggin' frustrating when they're committed to pranking you."

By this point Bee was gawking but at least he wasn't the only one.

"Dragon?" Sideswipe squeaked. He actually squeaked. Bee would have been rolling on the floor giggling at the sound had he not been staring so widely up at Dust.

Well, at least the helicopter was amused by all this, no matter the slight sadness that flickered in his optics.

"They were gestalt siblings. _Real_ gestalt. Not the mimic of it a few of your ages breed have played at." Dustoff explained. "It's a coding that has all but died out when our breed fell. The closest your kind has to it, Sideswipe, is you and your brother."

Something in the air around them all went very tense.

Bumblebee sank down a little deeper into Ironhide's arms in response to it as glances started getting thrown around them until all were looking at the twins. Even if the twins were doing nothing but staring up at the old medic as they sat beside Ratchet.

"What are you talking about, Dust?" Sunstreaker growled, voice pitched low and dark and dangerous. He was faking though. Bumblebee could feel that from here. Sunstreaker's reaction to unease had always been anger though.

The old medic just clicked his tongue at the pair of them as he sighed. "How is it, do you think, that I knew how to take care of you two so well all those vorns ago, Sunstreaker? Did you ever consider how it is I never so much as hesitated in how to fix either of you? Or why it was Wardrums picked you in the first place out of all the much bigger and healthier younglings that were down in that pit hole? Did you ever stop to wonder _why_?"

"Oh course we wondered why!" The golden twin spit back, only staying where he was because Ratchet reached out and wrapped a hand tightly around his arm.

"But you're . . . _you_!" Sideswipe added on, his own voice raised and dark.

"Yes," Dustoff nodded. "I am me, and I am old. I come from a time in our races history where the coding that made twins was fairly common. When no bot thought there was anything wrong with you. When your type was understood far better. I delivered, and treated quite a few sets over my lifetime, mechs. Because there were plenty of them. Twin coding is a splice of mutation of gestalt. It's where it comes from. Developed into its own thing, because the two are different in many ways, but the underlying factor is still the same. One spark, divided into more then one and more then one sparkling being made because of it. Now, granted, twelve was quite a jaw dropping number even back then. Their carrier nearly died giving life to all of them. It was why all those vorns later Mercy was such the surprise she was. It was thought that Radiance's spark had taken too much damage to ever be able to kindle again. Turns out the medic that told her that wasn't wrong, because she did die giving birth to Mercy. But she knew she would beforehand. Femme always did do everything in her power for her creations. It was why she kept the twelve until full term."

"Twelve sparklings." Jazz mumbled in a kind of awe that only a carrier could truly come up with. His optics wide behind his visor while he stared up at the huge mech, one hand clenched tightly in his lap to keep it from wondering to his abdomen. He might not ever carry now because of his sire, but he had never wanted to in the first place. Still, by nature he had the coding inside him and he balked now at the very prospect.

Because . . . _how_?

"At once." He went on, awed. "How is that even . . . ?"

"Mech," Dustoff said. "In my time, we were all a great deal bigger then you all are now. Radiance was a huge femme in a world where huge was normal. In fact, in our world, she was considered normal. Smaller than a good many, but still bigger than anything you've ever seen besides War and myself. It was not unfeasible for her to carry many sparklings at once or for her spark to be able to support a split of a kindle draining more energy from her. The only reason the coding died off is because of the sheer amount your breeds have shrunk, bots. Your carriers are no longer able to support such large numbers of sparklings so the coding has drifted off to memory. The most you have is twins now, and that has turned into something taboo and fearful. Your breeds have gone so far as to _kill_ them because you think there is something wrong with them. There is nothing wrong with them. It is only a mutation of coding and a very strong spark. They are as natural as you and me, their sparks just function differently. Primus, I'd be interested to see how some in your age would handle a real gestalt set being born these vorns. That would be something."

He just got stared out.

The smirk on his lips said found this amusing as well.

"Come now," He laughed softly to himself. "Is all that _really_ so hard to believe?"

"But . . ." Sideswipe mumbled it, drawing pale red optics his way as he asked. "Were they like me and Sunny? Were they bonded?"

Dustoff nodded. "Yes, but it was a bond both the same and different than yours. A spark split that many ways couldn't support itself at all if it wasn't somewhat self-reliant. If one died, they all died, like you. They were bond deeper in their sparks then most sparkmates can dream of, like you. And they had to merge to keep each other alive, like you. They were sparkmates, like you two, but they were also more then that. Gestalt was a thing all to itself. I called it hive mind, but that was more a medical jargon joke. Even while at the same time its not. Gestalts were individuals. Each their own bot with their own personality and traits just like you two. But unlike you two they could combine more than just their sparks. They combined _everything_. Together they could become something, some _bot_ else. Together they formed a single life form that was a personality and creature all its own. It was them, but it was all of them together. That was how Gestalts worked. That was the main thing that made them different. Because most times Gestalts were just three to six. That was the common number in our age. For there to be twelve of them, well I'd never heard of it before, but they were alive, they functioned, and they were themselves. When they weren't being Dragonstorm at least. He was both them, and then not them. That's part of the reasons gestalts were different then twins, but the main reason is this; you two can't share sparks with anything but each other and possibly one other spark out there in the universe. Because every set of twins is born with a match spark, somewhere, if you could find them. Gestalts though, they could, if they wanted to. They could sparkbond outside each other—none wanted to, it got weird in their helms—but they could merge. If they wanted to. It meant they could have sparklings. Pretty much the only reason that quirk existed. Like you two they couldn't kindle with each other, because carriers were never mixed with sires, but unlike you they could merge with any spark they wanted. Like normal bots. So, technically, they could breed with them too."

The twins stared.

Ratchet looked like he was thinking.

Jazz still seemed awed by the concept of _twelve_.

Optimus was being strangely quiet, as was Hide.

Bumblebee just blinked up at the massive mech until he softly said.

"They're dead too, aren't they?"

Dustoff's train of thought derailed a little at that. The side step of question causing him to pause for a moment as he slowly lowered his gaze back down to find those question filled blue ones. That flicker of sadness in those pale red pools finally made since to Bumblebee then. Because Dustoff slowly nodded.

"Yes. They're gone too. They died long ago, just before the Fallen came to power and the Civil War started. They just . . . vanished. Them and their charge. War . . . well he misses his brother's, mechling, I'm sure you understand that."

Antennas folding down against his head again Bee sat still for a moment in what he supposed was respect to the lives of family he had never known he'd had. Family that died long before he ever came to be. Family that he would never know, that would never know him. A bubble of sadness formed in his spark at the concept but it wasn't overpowering. Just a slight sore inside that had him feeling low.

"What . . . what were their names?" Lifting his optics again he questioned the big mech, relived to see some of the sadness faded from those optics as he nodded slowly with a slight smile.

"Dragonicus was the eldest, then there was Stormreign, Steelbane, Skullitron, Switchslide, Torrent, Loophole, Aftermath, Shale, Roundabout, Rapidburst, and Landslide. Together, they were Dragonstorm. They made up a special unit of Wardrums' army after he took control from his sire. They were the Guardian Knights, a division in and of itself. Quite the force to be reckoned with too. I miss them a great deal." Something softened in those pale red optics then as they flickered over Bumblebee once more before he said quietly. "And they would have very much liked to meet you."

Bee smiled, the same sad kind of smile that tilted Dustoff's lips until the big mech took another breath and nodded to himself.

"But yes, there is quite a lot of difference between the bots of my Age and the bots of yours. Simple basic coding has changed a lot with time. All of the old world's coding has died out, apart from War and I." All of a sudden, Dust paused, something like unease flickering through his gaze before it settled on Bee again as he said. "Though, that's not quite true now is it?"

"What?" Bee peeped, optics widening again as he looked up at the big mech. "Me? Be coded like _you?_ Umm . . . Dust, I'm tiny."

At that, Dust threw his head back and _laughed_.

It was a laugh the likes of which Bee had never heard. Deep and powerful, but pleasant. Like a strong wind on a bright day. The little mech couldn't help but grin at it as the flying mech laughed and laughed until finally he managed to calm himself back down to catch Bee's optics again as he huffed.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

That got a snicker out of Jazz, or maybe it was Bee's offended snort that did it. But he got knuckled between the antennas all the same by the silver mech who he swatted off with pretend frustration.

Sitting back against Hide's chest again he crossed his arms and was about to start pouting when a flicker of movement across the room caught his attention. Down here in the darkness, lit only by the soft blue glow of crystals, Bee had gotten use to moving shadows. Things seemed to be constantly shifting in the shadows down here. He'd been tripping over himself the first few orns wondering alone down here trying to catch sight of things that weren't really there. After so many times a processor just stopped noticing them, giving it up for the tricks of the light on the mind.

This one though, this one he noticed.

He wasn't sure why at first, but his attention shifted all the same before he tensed up ever so much at what he found flickering in the corner of the cave next to a cluster of crystals.

 _Risk._

Bee stared.

The small silver and blue robocat flickering in and out of sight like a light breeze stared back.

With a hard clench in his chest he looked away. Pinning his optics back on Dust in what he hoped was a quick enough time that no bot noticed the hiccup of focus. Dustoff was still chuckling quietly to himself and none of his family had followed the glance so he plowed on doing his best to ignore the flickering ghost prowling the side of the crystals around them.

"But I don't understand. I mean I get the thing about me, I guess, because Mercy had coding from your age so, yeah I guess it makes sense that I would to. I am tiny though you know, and you're _not._ But what about the Aeriabots? They can combine and their not like Sides and Sunny. They're just siblings, but not all at once. And the 'Cons. They have combiners too."

"Your times science is impressive, I will give it that." Dustoff shrugged. "Smart enough bot can taper with coding. Twist it and shape it to do things they want it to. It ain't easy, it's not safe, and it kills more then it works with, but its been going on for a long time. Your combiners are science experiments, or didn't you know that? Not much different than the seeker trines. That became a political power tool for Vos didn't it? Mentally binding bots together for their whole lives by a string of coding. Then again, the Senate did worse."

Yeah.

Bumblebee knew.

The Decepticons started the war because of the Senate, but the Autobots had come to know the full crimes of them too. The causes of all this death and madness, it wasn't black and white. No matter how much each side wanted it to be. Bee didn't think it was that easy. Prowl didn't powder coat things when he taught Bee history. He told him the truth for what it really was. It wasn't always easy to swallow but it was the truth and Bee had wanted to know it.

So he had been told. He knew he hadn't been told all of it, but he was pretty sure he had a good picture at least. That was why hearing that the Aerialbots were a science experiment shocked him enough that Risk slipped from his mind for a nano.

"What do you mean they're science experiments?" He chirped, instinctively darting his gaze toward Ratchet. Because Ratchet wasn't just his medic, he was _the_ medic. He didn't mean to undercut Jolt, or Aid, or Fire, but the truth of the matter was that Arcee and Ratchet ruled the medical world of the Autobots. Their word was not only final, it was law. They could toss even Optimus out of his aft when it came to the health and care of his army.

And frankly, there were few bots Bee had ever met that were as scary as Ratchet when he was pissed off at idiots.

Seeing the way those light blue optics dimmed told Bee he might not fully grasp or like what the medic would say next, but Ratchet wouldn't lie to him. Not now, at least.

"In a manner of speaking." Ratchet grumbled, a glare shifted Dustoff's way for a klick though all it did was make the much elder medic snort and roll his optics. "It's not something I did though, Bumblebee. I know the medical jargon of their case, I know how to treat them and keep them alive, but not how it is it works. Wheeljack would be the better explanation of that."

" _Wheeljack_ made mechs experiments!?" Bee balked.

"No." With a quick shake of his head the yellow and red medic turned his gaze back to him. "Wheeljack just fixed what some other idiot screwed up. The Aerialbots were a transfer unit from early in the war. When we still didn't have any fliers and we needed some. When a cluster of siblings with wings signed up and were willing to try some experimental weapons technology the head medic in charge of their unit jumped at it. No one did anything to them they didn't agree too, Bee, and you know very well that their sparks are nothing like what Dustoff is talking about. The medic in charge of the surgeries could have just done a better job of the finish work. They got sent to Wheeljack when the coding started fritzing on them. He fixed them and they've stayed with our branch ever since. Not that there are many branches left for them to go to. Calling them science experiments is a bit harsh."

"Harsh it may be." Dustoff shot back. "But it is what they are. I will never understand why the so called government that came to power over your Age liked to play with coding and then turned around and ran scared from it, but there you go. I guess you could call it evolution but I'm just going to call it too many forgotten lessons."

"I didn't know trines had mess with coding." Bee admitted quietly even as he rationalized that technically he didn't know much about trines at all. It wasn't like he'd ever really met any. The Aerialbots were the closest thing the seekers the Autobots had and now Bee figured out they too were tapered coding.

Dustoff hummed, but it was Jazz that answered this time. "Trines were political Bee, but those politics are long dead now."

"But the trines the 'Cons have still call each other trines. I mean, I know Thundercracker and Skywarp defected, or died, who knows but Starscream is still alive. If his trine brothers are dead wouldn't that mean he should be too?"

"Trines don't work like twins, Bee." Sideswipe told him. "Neither do the Aerialbots. They are tied in coding, Half Pint, not sparks."

"Oh. But how does that work?"

"Processors." Ratchet answered. "It's rewriting basic code structures. Not easy, sort of not safe, but by the time Vos started doing it for fun they had at least made it almost completely safe. What was done to the Aerialbots was very similar it was just messing with another string of code as well. Apparently the dormant code Dustoff is talking about."

"That would be correct yes. It is still around, most traits are, but it's very rare now." Dustoff nodded, he then spun on into some very large words and explanations that Bee couldn't even begin to make heads of tails of. Ratchet was paying attention to him though, as was Jazz, and Optimus. The twins were listening but didn't seem to get the long explanation anymore then Hide did while the big black mech sat still with his arms still hung loosely around the little mech.

As the conversation drew on with Ratchet firing questions back that elder medic leaving Bee's focus to drift again. It was then that a flicker of movement to his left again making his head snap around once more as his spark gave a hard tug.

The truth was he wasn't sure why he was surprised the second time. Sure, he'd been distracted, but it wasn't like he'd forgotten the phantom cat was prowling across the room.

Maybe he'd just been hoping . . . he would go away . . . ?

He should have known better.

Because there he was.

In all his small, bristled up, silver and blue glory. No matter how transparent he appeared Bee could still see him perfectly, lashing his tail back and forth in angry movements as he paced up and down the side of them. Those bright optics locked on him as his mouth opened in what Bee figured would be a yowl only there was no sound to go along with it.

Deep in his chest, his spark gave a hard pulse.

Hot, prickly, and unhappy.

A hand flew up without thought to press hard into the center seam of his chest. Rubbing back and forth as his expression pinched a bit at the hard, hot pain. His optics never left Risk though.

No matter how hard he tried to turn away and focus back in on the mechs around him before somebot realized he was doing something weird again. He just _couldn't_ look away.

His spark pulsed harder and harder, pain building behind the still instinctively locked together panels of his chest. His optics watching that prowling ghost that shouldn't be there.

He _couldn't_ be there.

 _Ghosts aren't real._ He told himself firmly. _It's not real. Whatever your seeing it's not real. It can't be real. Because . . . if it's real . . . ._

Then something really was wrong with him wasn't it?

Gulping hard, he traced the line the robocat phantom paced with his optics. Anger or maybe fear—Bee couldn't quite tell with how walled off he had his spark still—shown in the bristled way he held his plating and the lashing of his tail. That mouth—full of tiny needle sharp teeth—kept opening in silent calls and screams but no sound ever came with it. Just the robocat pacing back and forth just outside the circle of mechs. Those bright optics locked on Bee as he stared back.

He was trying to convey something, Bee knew that much, but that didn't mean he understood. He didn't know _how_ to understand!

Because how was this possible?

What was _wrong_ with him?

Seeing ghosts, not normal.

Then again, most of the stuff he did wasn't normal so . . . .

Unknowingly gnawing on his bottom lip, he watched the flickering form of his long dead friend pace back and forth. The small figment becoming more and more upset with each lap. He seemed to be calling out none stop now, but Bee still couldn't hear the sound. Even as he flickered his antennas and twitched his doorwings trying to filter sound at a different frequency to see if that helped.

It didn't.

Risk swung around the bottom on a crystal racing out a few yards toward them before skidding to a stop and silently crying out again. Tail lashing hard behind him, plating bristled up to stand in small jagged lines along him. Those bright blue optics weren't narrowed in anger through.

They were wide.

Wide with fear.

Bee's spark clenched tight in his chest. Sharp flares of feeling pulsing out trying to work around the thick wall of _no_ he had shut around himself after that little incident with Star. The truth was his so called friend that was the voice in his head had scared the living pit out of him and he'd been sort of too terrified to so much as look with it.

Or at it.

He'd been sort of ignoring his spark more or less since then. Settling for just trusting his gut and following after Dustoff. When the whole thing about everybot having been lying to him came up he'd poked and prodded at his bonds again, but he'd done it through the muted wall he'd thrown up.

Now, shivering inside at the notion, he wondered if taking down that wall was something he needed to do. Optics tracing Risk as he jumped, and pounced, and paced and was obviously trying everything he could think of to get Bee to look at him. Because it had to be Bee he was doing all this for.

None of the others could see him.

Swallowing hard, Bee shifted a bit in Hide's lap. Part of his mind already nudging him up and urging him to follow. It had all been very important the other times he started seeing things that . . . weren't supposed to be there. This was looking to be something kind of important wasn't it?

He shifted again, not pulling away, but turning to keep Risk in his sight as the ghost robocat made another lap around the crystals coming back to start bouncing just a little ways away from Bee again. Still yowling silently. Still with fear in his optics.

What was wrong?

Deep in his chest his spark gave another hard pulse and he felt some of that wall he'd built up crumble.

"Bee?" Ironhide's deep rumbled question, even so close to him, almost wasn't enough to distract Bee from his following optics but there was still enough youth left in his instincts that meant when his sire spoke he listened. Antennas flickering back toward the sound of his voice while his doorwings settled back down against his back as slowly Bee turned his head back find Ironhide's dark blue optics.

Only he found a lot more then that.

Because they were all staring at him. Six different sets of shades of blue all in various degrees of confusion flickering to him and then out into the alcove around them. Searching for something they couldn't possibly see. Because Bee wasn't that lucky.

"Whatcha lookin' at, Lil' Bee?" Jazz asked, his visor bright as he looked out around the dim blue glow of darkness around them before he turned his optics back. The bright glow of them shining behind that slime blue curve of glass enough to make Bee shrink back down into Hide's grip. His optics wide as they shot back and forth looking for an answer he wouldn't find among the curious slightly worried gazes staring back at him.

He didn't know what else to do though. Because he no idea how to explain this.

How did one explain this?

His bright optics darting over to find Risk prowling and yowling just on the other side of Jazz then darting up to the silver mech's gaze. That gaze that flicked right over the very distressed ghost a few times before flicking back to Bee.

Hide had a hand at his back, rubbing between his slowly dropping doorwings, but the young mech couldn't make himself so much as look up at his sire. He was too busy dodging the questioning stares of the others, even Optimus as the big mech leaned forward behind the backs of his Weapons Specialist and CMO to catch his optics.

He quickly snapped his own optics back away. A low hum of unease and search for an answer leaving him without his consent. His jaw working but vocal processor not keeping up with the rapid spin of his mind. Desperately searching for some explanation that wouldn't make him sound insane, but coming up with nothing.

Then, much to his surprise, Dustoff saved him the trouble.

"I'll be damned." Maybe it was because Dust speaking was the last thing Bumblebee had expected in that moment, or maybe it was because there was . . . _awe_ in the old mech's voice. Whatever the reason, Bee didn't really have time to figure it out it would turn out, his jaw snapped shut and his head went with it. Optics locking on the huge helicopter mech only to find him staring out over the little cave. Or more accurately, staring at Risk.

The very upset phantom cat paid the flier seeing him no mind. He was still too busy pacing and silently yowling and staring at Bee to care that somebot else was seeing him.

Bee though, _Bee_ took notice.

Dustoff stared at the pacing cat for a long few nanos only for his gaze to dart back to Bee, and then back, then again, and again, and again, until finally a long slightly mystified chuckle left the huge mech as he whispered. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you, little one?"

Something in Bee skidded to a stop.

It just stopped.

As those pale red optics settled him and he couldn't help the harsh breath that left him as he squeaked. His own optics darting back and forth between Risk and the 'copter for a moment longer before he barely breathed. "Wait . . . _you_ see him too?"

Dustoff hummed low in his chest and nodded slow, just once.

That something deep down in Bee's spark, that had stopped, squeezed just once more around that bright ball of life in his chest before it let go. It let go and Bee took a breath like he was starved for it, like he'd been holding it and hadn't even known it.

"So. . . ." He whispered it, even if he wasn't quite sure, everything else tuned out but those pale red optics staring back at him. "You mean . . . I'm _not_ crazy?"

Dustoff snorted a laugh, amusement glittering to life in those pale orbs as he slowly shook his head. "Crazy? No, mechling. Not crazy."

Another hard breath left Bee as his whole frame sagged in what he supposed would be relief. A slightly delirious chuckle leaving him as he took to grinning stupidly at the huge mech. Dustoff just huffed back at him. Amusement and wonder at war on his faceplate, but Bee didn't care.

Somebot else saw it.

Somebot else _saw it_!

He couldn't fraggin' believe it!

He might slaggin' cry he was so fraggin' happy right now!

And than, on par with Bumblebee's luck these orns, would be when the bottom fell out of everything.

Quite literally.

Before Dustoff, could so much as open his mouth again a loud, deeper then thunder, boom shook the very stone they sat on. A sound so deep it shattered some of the crystals clustered in the corner of them room. A high pitch scream vibrating through each of them making Bee duck his head suddenly—doorwings plastered to his back—as he let out a pained squeak of his own.

It was all was drowned out not a nano later then with another booming rumble came. Scrapping, whirling, shaking. The very ground itself shook, chucks of rock and metal falling around them as everything shook.

Optics blown wide, head ringing with the dying screams of crystals, and a sound so big it made the very air move he didn't have enough senses to focus on the high pitch scream he let out to match that of the dying crystals. He hardly realized Ironhide snatched him up tight, pulling him closer to his chest as the ground beneath them started to crumble.

Above the screaming in his mind and the roaring boom in the air he somehow managed to here Dustoff yell.

"Move! Now!"

A large, clawed, tan hand snaked out and caught hold of Ironhide. Lifting him—mechling and all—by the bicep before he tossed him toward the way out. Bee was limp in Hide's hold for all of the time it took the big mech to catch himself from being thrown before he wiggled and hit the ground. Not really because Hide wanted to let him go, but the big ebony mech knew the youngling could out run him any time.

Bee's feet hit the ground in a stumble because _everything_ was shaking. That rumbling boom all around enough to make his inside vibrate. His balance along with it. He probably would have landed flat on his face too had Jazz not zipped in beside him. A clawed hand snatching him by the arm. Hauling him up to his feet and then dragging him behind the silver mech as they all ran.

"What the frag!?" He heard Sunstreaker snarl over the roar and crumbling stone and metal all around them.

"Sandshark!" Dustoff snarled back from somewhere behind them as every sense Bee had was lost in a wall of noise and motion. The only thing that kept him moving was Jazz's tight grip around his arm. "Driller, whatever the slag you idiots call it these orns! Just run!"

"Run where!?" Jazz hollered back, dodging a crumbling wall of stone, blocking the path they had followed down Bee down. Twisting away from the falling stone, bending over Bee in the process they just managed to _not_ get squished by fallen ruble by Optimus' strong hands snatched them both by the backs and flinging them the other direction.

It crashed them into a wall, but Jazz snatched Bee up and dragged him forward again as the ground startled falling from beneath their feet as Dustoff screamed.

"UP!"

Bee squealed before he could help himself as he suddenly lurched downward. Arms flailing as he tried to catch himself. Jazz's claws were still locked hard around his arm, the sharp digits tightening to the point they drew energon as the silver mech was suddenly yanked back with him. Desperately trying to get a grip on him as they both pitched back as the ground fell.

"Bee!" Jazz had never sounded quite so panicked to the young mech before, not that he could remember right then at least, as he dug his grip tight into Bee's arm. Even as it drug him back over the crumbling edge with the youngling. They both probably would have fallen into the gaping pit of black nothing opening up under them too had Dustoff not caught them both in a swipe of claws. Flinging them forward again he bellowed to keep going.

Jazz didn't stop to thank him.

His grip just tightened around Bee's arm. Yanking him hard and faster. The lot of them flinging themselves into the dark tunnels running as fast as they could while the world around them shook with booms that some part of Bee's processor informed him was in fact not thunder. That was a Sandshark—a Driller—boring its way through the ground. The very thing that made all these tunnels in the first place, or at least one of them.

One giant, jagged, metal worm that was supposed to be extinct.

So why the pit was it trying to eat them!?

A shaking tunnel wall to the side of them erupted into ruble, showering them in tiny bits of stone and metal, but it wasn't that made Bumblebee scream.

Oh no.

It was the giant, spinning, tentacle like worm that followed the shower of rubble. Sliding in the shower of stone Bee crashed into Jazz's back as the silver mech suddenly stopped, his own expression twisting in fear as he shoved the little mech behind him. Head thrown up and optics wide behind his visor at the sight of the roaring, audio shattering sound the twisting creature made.

It was huge—and that was just the head—bigger than anything Bee had ever seen before. Thick coils of protoform, plating, cabling, and wire all wrapped up in a jagged edge circle of one massive beast. It had no optics and yet somehow that massive head that obliterated the ground around them twisted—four smaller, slimmer, but just as sharp and whirling tentacle like things spinning around the one bigger head—to lock onto them.

That giant, gaping, mouth seemed to have thousands of jagged teeth made out of what Bee could only assume was plating, or armor, or something because nothing like normal teeth could be like that. The who thing twisted on the inside, spilling and whirling in dances of thousands of teeth as it swayed. Made to cut through the hard stone and metal ground of Cybertron easy as slipping through sand.

It hoovered there before them—louder than anything—like a poised snake playing with a terrified glitch-mouse whole frame still twisting and spinning around itself. That gigantic head looming closer while the four tentacle branch offs spun and surged. The inside of its gaping mouth crunching and spinning as well. Coming close and closer as Jazz stood trapped there before it with Bee clinging to his back. Almost caught in a trance by the sheer impossibility of the thing.

They probably would have stood there and gotten themselves ate like the terrified glitch-mice they were acting like had a plasma rifle shot not bombed off behind them. The burning blast catching the Sandshark in the mouth drawing out an audio shattering scream from it as it twisted away from the blast. Arching up and back just enough to open the path it had covered.

"I SAID RUN YOU SLAGGIN' GLITCHES!" Dustoff's bellow snapped them from their daze. Jazz shaking himself hard as his claws tightened again and he raced forward. Dragging Bumblebee along with him, they raced under the arching up worm trying not to fall over clutching their heads from the sheer _sound_ of it. The others racing after them, the twins stumbling at the sounds, clutching their heads while Ratchet collared them both and shoved them forward before him.

Dustoff's rifle kept firing as he ran. Shot after shot making the creature twist, and scream, arching high and higher into the tunnel while the big flier raced under him as well. Twisting around to flee backwards as he kept shooting for its mouth to keep the Sandshark from coming after them. Instead, as another blast caught it deep in the mouth it let out a deep scream before plunging back into the hard ground. This time going straight down. Shaking everything around it as its whole frame spun, twisted, and sliced cutting through the world around it.

Bee threw a glance over his shoulder as he was drug along. Looking back to catch Dustoff turning away from firing to keep chasing after them but his gaze locked on the long silver shape that was _still_ coming from where it had emerged and plowing back into the ground.

It was . . . _massive_.

It was _still_ coming.

"Keep going! It will swing back around but they can't make tight turns! It's too big! Just keep running! We have to get above ground!"

"What good will that do!?" Bee heard himself shout, but didn't actually know he was doing it as he ran for his life. "It _eats_ the ground!"

"No, it eats _you_!" Dustoff shouted back. "If it catches you, now _keep slaggin' running_!"

 _Oh, well._

Bee decided to stop asking questions and do what the huge flier said to do. Running as fast as he could kept him at pace with Jazz because he wasn't about to let go of the silver mech as they fled, twisting through tunnel after tunnel with the others hard on their heels trying to find the way back out.

They might have made it too, had the ground just in front of them on the tunnel path not erupted into another giant, spinning, roaring Sandshark. Crashing up from below them to slam into the tunnel's roof. Sunlight burst into life around them. The creature crashing into the roof opening a straight shot to freedom, but not one they got to take, as it swung itself back around to crashing into the ground beside them.

Taking a large second of the ground with it into tumbling blackness.

Later, Bee would ask himself why in that moment he felt the need to quietly breath out. "Oh, there's two."

He wasn't quite sure why he did it. Let alone how he knew it was a different one. He just did it, and then the ground once again fell out from under him. He didn't scream this time, it was too much of a shock, one moment he'd been standing there crashed into Jazz's back and the next those sharp silver claws had been ripped out of his arm by the force of gravity. Pealing back light plating and protoform with it in long streaks of energon. Energon suddenly flowing up, in glittering balls of blue, because he was falling.

It hurt.

It should have hurt enough to at least make him cry out about that, but he couldn't. He was too busy falling into the empty blackness beside a giant twisting worm-snake-thing the audio shattering sounds enough that he couldn't even hear the screams of Hide, and Jazz, and Optimus, and Ratchet, and the Twins, and Dust. He didn't hear the roar of powerful shuttle engines echo in the bright sun filled sky above.

He was just swallowed up by the roars and the blackness.

* * *

 **It would be safe to say Bee is _very_ done with falling for this lifetime. Poor little mech. I'm so mean to him.**

 **Anyway, I have been waiting a _long_ time to get to this part. I finally get to play with the Sandsharks-Drillers, as they are technically called, but come on Sandsharks sounds cooler-and I am _so_ excited. I hope you guys are too. I really had fun with this chapter, more then I've had with a GG chapter in a while. So hopefully that is a good thing.**

 **It might also have everything to do with the fact that I went and saw The Last Knight, as should be fairly obvious after reading this chapter. So, that was actually pretty cool and yeah, it is now all got worked into my plan and this story got even _longer._ I hope you are all excited. I am. Because I do so love playing with Bumblebee.**

 **I hope you all liked it. I look forward to seeing what you thought. So let me know. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **-Jaycee**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **This took way too long to get finished, but here it is at last. Enjoy. ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 18

Panic makes a sound.

Believe it or not, it does.

True, honest, life altering, panic does at least.

It's own unique kind of symphony that most—if they are lucky—go their whole lives without ever hearing. Some have heard it before though. The unlucky ones, will hear it more than once.

But all who hear it, never forget it.

For it's a finicky kind of sound.

It never makes itself known for things that concern the well being or safety of those that hear it.

Oh no.

Because that would be too simple, right?

See, the true sound of panic—the sound itself—is only ever heard in the face of panic for others. _Real_ panic for others.

It's an eerie kind of sound; a deep ringing in the back of the mind mixed with a squealing rubber kind of pulse that leaves hands shaking and sparks pounding. All encompassing, it blocks out everything but itself and the fear it swells behind it.

Wardrums was very familiar with it and all its horrible glory.

The mech was older then the planet he now lived on, but he had much more reason then that for understanding it.

He had fought more world destroying battles then should be possible, he had crossed the black emptiness of space from vast endlessness to vast endlessness, he had watched dynasties rise and fall, he had led countless lives to victory and even more to slaughter, he was the last surviving member of his house, he never had the chance to burying any of them, he was the last General of Cybertron's Grand Army, he was the heir to the Desert Throne, he had outlived his usefulness, his Prime, and his purpose.

He knew loss.

He knew it for all that it was and would be.

Panic in all its noise and fuss was old hat to him. However, he hadn't felt it for what it really was in quite a long time.

He wasn't sure, to be honest, when things had stopped hurting like they once did. If he had to put a mark on it, he would normally say loosing Mercy. Losing his creators, his Kings, his war, his world, and his brothers; that had hurt him, but losing the last thing left he had cared about protecting . . . that had broken him.

Wardrums was not a foolish mech.

He was arrogant, angry, and argumentative on his best orns; violent, volatile, and vengeful on his worst.

He had grown cold, distant, and void while time marched on around him. He'd stopped doing much more than existing for quite a few vorns now, fifty-one to be precise.

But he was in no way foolish.

He knew what he had been becoming long before it happened. After it did, he had done nothing to stop it, let alone change it. There were nights he laid awake staring at nothing, wondering when he had lost the young, stupidly brave, overly confident, and eager for life mech that once been. Truthfully, deep down, he knew the answer. For it was all the reasons that he blamed everything else on.

There was one thing he didn't know though.

It was why the kind, stubborn, hopeful doctor that lay beside him most nights still bothered to do such a thing.

Sparkbonds were forever, mates were for life, it was a law as old as the dust that made the universe. Once made, sparkbonds could not be tossed aside or thrown away. Cybertronians were not like some species of the universe that could form connections, love, and families and then leave them.

Once a spark linked itself to another in a mate bond, there was no undoing it. There was no growing apart, or falling away.

It was a gift of their race, he guessed.

It certainly made him a lucky bastard, he knew that.

Right now, it was annoying the pit out of him though. For he knew all too well there would be no Dustoff living with his attitude anymore. Not after he felt and heard that emotion flare though War's spark as the ground gave way beneath too small yellow feet.

Not after War tucked his wings, boosted his thrusters, and dove head first into blackness.

Damn it all to pit.

Grinding his fangs together, the colossal shuttle surged downward, the sound of panic ringing in his chest and audios no matter how hard he was trying to ignore it. It pulsed in time with his hammering spark, boiling in his energon, and shivering in the tips of his claws; though he would deny that last bit to the end of his fraggin' orns.

He'd been trudging along through the dark tunnels following the feel of his mate after picking his sorry aft and stinging cheek up off the ground when he registered the first eerily familiar shake beneath his clawed feet. There hadn't been time to so much as think about what it was before the world exploded into bits of stone, metal, and the overpowering whirling thunder of a creature he'd thought long gone.

He didn't think.

He reacted.

Powerful flight engines singing to life he twisted, spun, and dodged his way out of a collapsing tunnel. Breaking for the sunbaked desert surface in a boom of echoing engines just as the two hunting Sharks surged their way to the surface of shifting red sands.

The panic bit in his chest a few moments after that.

When he twirled himself around in a dizzying arch through the bright blue sky trying to get a good look at the ground below again to find the form of his mate he could feel only to come up with the image of that damn yellow runt getting himself swept up by gravity instead.

Primus forsaken, land-bound, flightless, misfit.

Couldn't he even _run away_ properly?

Wardrums was going to fraggin' ring the little runt out of this, after he caught him that was.

Tipping himself into a sharp dive, the powerful shuttle locked his wings back behind him to twist him into a steep of fall as he dared. Engines screaming with the boost he rocketed through them, not to mention the pitch gravity put on him, he let himself fall.

The scream of air and turbines meant he couldn't hear the roaring of the two sharks he was falling toward. He didn't hear the Autobots' panic, or Dustoff's lack of sound. He didn't care about any of it either.

Fire colored optics simply narrowed on a bright yellow blip vanishing into the inky blackness to the side of a twisting Shark before he to let himself vanish into the blackness after him.

Gravity mixed with red lining flight engines meant he ate up the distance between himself and the youngling in a handful of sparkbeats. Careening around the spinning, sharp, whirling plating of the Shark he barely felt the nicks of pain along his hide from bits of stone and metal. Optics locked below him he glared through the inky dark until suddenly a flailing yellow runt came back into view.

Scowl twisting his lips, he burst another flare through his engines when around the tiny yellow thing a bit of solid surface—be it ground of tunnel wall he couldn't be sure, didn't care honestly—came into focus.

The runt was closer to the oncoming stone then War was to him.

Fangs clenched.

One sparkbeat thudded in his audios.

His engines roared.

Another sparkbeat.

He flung an arm out, claws extended.

Another sparkbeat.

Wide, terrified, too familiar blue optics shown through the darkness to meet War's fire colored ones as the ground closed in below him.

Another sparkbeat.

Black claws snatched obnoxiously bright plating.

Bumblebee let out a high pitched squeak—the youngling _squeaked,_ could he not even be terrified properly?—as he was yanked forward. Colliding hard with ancient, thick plating the air was knocked from his vents in a whoosh, but War was a little too busy throwing every ounce of his power and strength into a truly spectacular turn to notice much else.

Now if only it hadn't hurt so damn much.

Throwing out his wings from where he had tucked them down behind them to reduce wind drag his neural net came alive with error readings and agony. All of which he quickly dismissed in favor of rerouting six of his turbines to drag air hard through his turbines while the others switched over to pushing it hard right back. The result was a frame shudder stall in the middle of the nose drive.

Wings screaming at him, thrusters choking on the swirling air he trapped inside his turbines, the huge flier pitched himself into a banking turn that only the experience of a few millennia worth of flying let him even begin to pull off.

One nano he was hurtling head first into a stone wall and the next he was barely scrapping the hard wall in a spray of rather painful red sparks before he was once again climbing.

The youngling clutched tightly to his chest in a one handed, clawed grip let out another squeak of shock or terror, War wasn't sure which, as suddenly the world around them shifted.

Vertigo was something the old shuttle overcame eons ago, but he had no doubt the tiny runt clenched to his chest was doing his level best to not purge at the moment with what would have just hit him.

The thought made War sneer to himself even as he mentally rerouted warning signatures as well as pain notifications blaring through his processor while he righted himself. Pulling away from the hard stone wall and the shower of sparks his wing was making until he was once again throwing his thrusters back into overdrive and rocketing himself back toward the surface.

Deep in his chest, he rumbled as they soared back toward the surface, or more accurately the two Sharks he was going to have to go through to get there.

"Hold on tight." He growled out through clenched fangs, satisfied when the tiny yellow thing against him clenched his fingers and toes even harder into the grooves of the massive shuttle's frame as they roared back toward the surface. "And if you know what's good for you, you will _not_ purge on me."

Bumblebee couldn't quite speak around the lump of fear and what was likely his dinner in his throat. So instead, the mechling nodded, clinging as hard as he could to the massive black chest swirled in thin lines of gold. Optics squeezing shut, he hid his face in the thick panels of armor as the world spun, twisted, and roared around them. When the audio shattering thunder of the Sand Sharks grew even louder though he couldn't help but peak out from the hold that had him. Glancing up just in time to see and hear the 'shink' of a massive sword being yanked from over the towering flier's head. The arm that wasn't holding Bee tightly across his chest was thrown up and over him. Grasping at a hilt tucked between powerful wings spread out wide on each side of him. Long, sharp black claws wrapped the huge hilt that Bee doubted he could lift, as easily as the other hand grasped him. One, smooth, long yank freeing a truly massive sword from whatever collection of plating or sheath that had housed it.

Bee's bright optics widened just a tad more at the sheer size of the longsword suddenly brandished before them. However, it was likely that his optics got even wider on account of the giant, sharply scaled, twisting, spinning, roaring, metal worm suddenly looming in front of them.

A sharp gasp—the mechling would deny it as a scream for as long as he lived—left him. A half formed warning coming with it before Wardrums swung the sword hard before them, slicing through sharp grey plating, bits of stone and metal lodged between thick armor plates, and then finally the weak protoform that lie underneath.

Bumblebee had never heard a Sand Shark scream in agony before.

But he had now.

Thrusters shooting them like a rocket toward the surface combined with the sheer power behind War's swing meant that one slice nearly cleaved the Shark in two. A wave of sickly hot, sticky blue crashing down on them after the hit. The sudden feeling making Bee suck another sharp breath that he quickly came to regret when the thick taste of processed fuel flooding down his throat.

He choked on it.

The thick, sticky, hot, tangy taste making everything inside him rebel. He clamped his mouth back shut. Swallowing down the rising bile and taste alike in favor of snapping around to hide his faceplate against the sound and feel all around him.

The Shark's scream vibrated the air itself. Rattling War and Bee both down to their struts. A sound so loud it _ached_ in the tight confinement of a collapsing tunnel as the huge creature fell away from the source of pain slicing deep into it.

It's tightly drilled hunting tunnel to the surface wasn't made for easy escape for something as large as it. No matter that most of its long, sharp plating was still whirling around it cutting into the ground around it. Falling back away from the source of pain meant it was no longer thinking about where it was going. It was just trying to escape.

Another hard swing of War's massive sword, another sticky surge of blue crashing in a wave over them, and then suddenly they were out. The echoing roars and screams bouncing back and forth on the walls around them opening up into the wide open world above ground.

Bumblebee sucked in another sharp breath as War's thrusters roared through the steep climb. The sudden open sky around them so bright it hurt, making him squeeze his optics shut once again. Head hiding in the thick panels of the shuttle's chest while he twisted through another dizzy loop.

Then, as quickly as Bee had found himself snatched, he found himself thrown.

A yelp leaving him as he went sailing downward, arms once again flailing before he crashed into a rather hard surface. A hard surface that wrapped strong, long arms around him just as War growled.

"Hold this."

Bumblebee found himself dangling in Dustoff's arms, blinking somewhat stupidly up at the helicopter mech, while he got smirked back at before both of them tipped their gazes up to follow the streaking trail of the shuttle mech flying back toward the twisting forms of two Sand Sharks.

Well, okay, one half dead Sand Shark and the other one that was rather upset about this fact. At least Bee thought it to be rather upset.

He wasn't sure.

It looked kind of pissed, you know, with the roaring, and thrashing and throwing bits of ground this way and that as it twisted around from the hole it was emerged from. Twisting around again it threw its head toward them. Gaping mouth just as terrifying as the first time Bumblebee had saw it. A huge hole of teeth like nothing else he had ever seen as they spun so fast they blurred.

Hanging there in Dustoff's arms like some kind of headlight blinded circuit fawn he stared as the huge shuttle that had just saved his skinny little aft rocketed back toward the two twisting giants. Their roars still shook the ground they stood on, but Bee hardly registered it in favor of staring in wide optic wonder at the flier.

Longsword sweeping out before him, Wardrums twisted into a spinning surge toward the struggling Sharks. The one that he had already cut streaked in a long rows of blue as it seemed to be struggling with even holding itself up. The other twisting around it while it roared, cutting into it and the ground around it.

When the other Shark swung its massive head down toward the other that was when Wardrums hit it broadside. Sword slashing out before him, he twisted with a flare of his thrusters. A sickening shred cutting through the still desert air as the roaring cut out with a shriek.

Bumblebee watched through wide blue orbs as with an explosion of gushing energon and shredded metal the Sand Shark was cleaved clean in two. Head still twisting as its massiveness came crashing down to the sand beside the tunnel, the body flailing this way and that, twitching like some kind of giant viper as it crumbled back into the tunnel it had come from.

Wardrums soared out the other side of the crashing blue wave of fuel. Banking hard to the right, sword throwing a stream of blue behind him, as he righted himself into another charge. He pulled up short mid-air though when the other Shark he had already hurt ducked back into the sand. The red sand shivering and shifting, the roar of shredding stone and metal rising up before it was gone, vanishing into silence.

For a moment the silence ruled—well as silent as a desert could be mid-orn—as War hovered there mid-air before with a heavy turn of his turbines he pitched himself forward again. Looking like he was doing more coasting through the air than anything else.

A mech that big shouldn't be able to look like he was floating that effortlessly through the sky. Especially when he was doing little more than controlling a fall back toward the surface.

 _Must be a flier thing._ The young mechling thought to himself, still dangling in Dustoff's safe grip. Unable to take his optics away from the huge shuttle that effortlessly glided back down to the sand near them.

If it wasn't for how hard his weight hit the ground Bumblebee might have believed him to be weightless after seemingly floating back down. The crunch of sand under his sharp toes and the way so much of it displaced itself proved the weight that went behind that towering frame though. If that didn't do it, the way he wielded that longsword sure did.

Bright blue optics flickered to that impressive blade. Balanced seemingly effortlessly in a large clawed hand, the hilt itself almost as big as Bee was. The blade, a dark grey metal that glowed faint red with heat under the coating of sizzling blue energon dripping steadily down it, was one smooth expanse of cybertronium. A metal that Bee knew in an offhand kind of way—bots were made up of a little bit of it after all—but had never seen in such a way as that before.

The blade itself was taller than Wardrums. Held seemingly effortlessly in one had while he stood there in the sand a few paces away from them staring down at the blade dripping rivers of energon down to sizzle in the sand as he flexed his claws around the black painted hilt.

It was when Bee saw the long streaks of sticky blue dripping down War that he finally registered how much of the slag was on him too. The realization coming with the tingle of the sheer amount of sticky, sliding, sizzling slag dripping down his bright plating. Seeping into grooves, down to protoform and wiring that lie underneath making him watch to twitch and itch at the icky feeling.

It was hard to do much more than hang there limply though when those fire red optics finally stopped assessing the sword glowing faintly under the coating of blue in his hand in favor of cutting over to Bee where he still hung in the 'copter mech's arms.

Those fire colored orbs narrowing slightly as they swept up and down the small yellow frame made even small in proportion of the mech that held him effortlessly there like some kind of turbo pup. Unsure what else to do in the wake of all that Bee found himself making an effort to twitch his lips up slightly. The effort fell a little flat in the wake of Wardrums' lifted optic ridge over a very unamused expression.

Bee wilted a little at that while the shuttle mech huffed hard, effortlessly twisting the longsword around him in a glittering arch that sent energon slinging in all directions. The huge slab of sharpened metal twisting from the pivot point of his wrist in a graceful circle that Bee could hardly comprehend at the size of it. One rotation, another, another, another, and then War swung the blade up over him. Twisting the hilt around his fingers once more before he drove it down behind his back. Powerful wings flexing behind him as they seemed to stretch wider for just a moment when the blade drove down behind his back. A complicated serious of clicks of transformation following as the blade vanished.

War pulling his hand back from over his head, now free of the sword. Long, powerful arm coming to hang at his side as the mech turned from the collection of mechs. Fire colored optics skating back across the mess that had been made of the desert surface. Two large holes now erupting from the piles of shifting red. Before long the sands would shift and the wounds cut in the desert's surface would look as if they belonged. For now, though, with the carcass of a Sand Shark laying in the sand it looked the short battleground it was.

The shuttle huffed at it.

"You attract a lot of trouble for a mechling as tiny as you are." There was no real heat in the words. A growl, sure, but War very rarely managed to speak without a sound such as that. So somehow, though his doorwings twitched a little at the growl, Bee found he didn't flinch so bad from it while Wardrums turned away from them. Stalking across the sand toward the severed head of the Shark laying in a steadily growing pool of blue at the edge of one of the massive holes. Leaving the rest of them clustered there together in the sand, most of them blinking rather stupidly after his back until Dustoff let out a long breath that had more amusement in it than anything else.

Shaking his head slightly back and forth the big flier carefully went down on one knee. Giving Bee back his weight with a measured hesitation of those large arms retreating only after the slight swaying in young yellow legs stopped.

Catching his balance was a little harder than Bee thought it would be, but considering he didn't immediately pitch to the side and purge up everything in his tanks, he was counting it as a win. His insides still felt like they were swimming around, and the sticky itch of sliding energon all over him wasn't helping him keep his fuel in his tanks. He managed to pull it off though.

Somehow.

Swaying just a tad more on his feet when he pitched his gaze up to find the weathered faceplate the flier medic looked down at him with. Red optics softened to an emotion Bee wasn't quite sure what to make of while it stared down at him.

That was about as long as it lasted though, because he suddenly found himself snatched up again. The yank startling a half gasp out of him when before he found himself plastered to Ironhide's thick armored chest once again.

He melted.

Easy as breathing.

Tucked up safely against the warm black armor of his sire's chest he let himself go limp. Pushing the _wrong-wrong-wrong_ feeling of the energon seeping down under his armor away from his mind, as well as the dull ache in his shoulder. He was doing his best to push away the left over terror that had wrapped around his internal vents and choked him when the ground had vanished and he'd been swallowed up by darkness and sound, but he doubted he was doing quite as well as he hoped at it. When his bond with Hide flooded with feeling now that the big black mech had a hold of him again.

The chilly fear washed out under the wave of warmth the big black mech shoved at him. Wrapping him up tight in spark, frame, and field. The feeling of Hide's strong, pulsing energy field flexing around him and crashing into Bee's making the young mech finally aware of just how much his was twisting about him. Crackling with static as his emotions tossed themselves back and forth with how much his spark didn't understand what had just happened around him.

The searing flow of Hide's emotions wasn't much better. Bee figured the big ebony mech was trying to hide some of the thick terror swishing through him, but he wasn't doing that good a job of it. Under the swell of reassurance that was being shoved up front through the link between them there was a thick glob of a fear that was both similar and very different to the one that had been swimming through him.

Instead of touching it or point it out though, the mechling just let it be. Feeling a little better about the terror that still bubbled in him at the feel of it. Instead of worrying too much with it, he let himself get swept up by the relief and warmth surging through all his links as his family closed in around him once again.

Tight in Hide's arms he burrowed into the center seam of the big mech's chest. Quivering slightly there in the safety of those thick, cannon welding arms, soaking up the feeling and touch. Not caring that his doorwings shivered more than a little bit at his back, he let himself be snatched tight, drawn in, and held onto while the big ebony mech rumbled around him. Rocking him slightly back and forth as a broad faceplate buried itself in his neck. Hot, slightly shaky breaths puffing against the sensitive wiring of his neck.

Bee's fingers just tightened in the familiar holds in scared armor he knew like the back of his hand. Clinging tightly while Hide clung just as hard back until finally with a shaky breath the deep voice beside his audio rumbled.

"I am never letting you off the damn ship ever again."

The low grumble tore a laugh from the slightly quivering mechling before he could stop it. A slightly hysterical laugh sure, but a laugh all the same.

The sound bubbling around him as he burrowed just a bit deep for a moment until he finally pulled back just enough to lean and look sidelong into the scared deep blue optic squinting back at him. When he darted forward and chinned lightly at the hard slope of Hide's jaw he finally got a deeply vibrating slight laugh back. The big black mech turning his head to dig the sharp point of his chin down between Bee's flicking antennas.

For a nano the big mech rumbled deeply—as close to a purr as Hide could make—back at Bee's much higher pitched purr. The two of them losing some of the tension and fear flowing between them in the reassuring motion and sound until finally Hide was able to loosen the plating creaking hold he had on the small mech.

Bumblebee was not put down, but he was allowed to lean back when Ironhide took a deep breath. Frame flexing with the intake when he let his grip shift enough for Bee to tilt back enough to smile timidly at him.

Dark blue optics narrowed at the sight he was sure he must make covered in Shark energon.

A familiar silver, clawed hand pulled Bee's attention. Snapping his attention around to find Jazz sliding his claws gently up his arm, sliding through the splatters and globs of energon all over him looking for what they both knew was there. The young mech still flinched and pulled back a little when Jazz's claws found the scrapes they had dug through his shoulder trying to get a hold of him earlier.

He didn't mean to flinch at the touch, but he did. Hating himself a little bit at the pain and regret that flared through that bright blue visor.

Bee snaked out one of his hands to snatch up the silver claws before they could retreat too far from him. Whining low in his throat when Jazz kept trying to yank his hand away from the damage he'd done.

Jazz's expression twisted, but he stopped pulling back as Bee tightened his smaller fingers around those claws. Tugging slightly to keep the silver mech from retreating he pulled out his best kicked puppy expression to make sure Jazz wouldn't go far.

The silver mech huffed at the look. Slight exasperation curling the edge of his thin lips. Head shaking ever so much as slowly the spy stopped trying to pull away. Instead of settling there on his feet just a pace away, squeezing his claws around those thin yellow fingers. Yellow fingers that at the moment Jazz couldn't keep himself from remembering just how small use to be.

Shaking the memory of tiny yellow digits curled as wide as they could go around little more than a tip of his clawed finger, Jazz leaned up to bump Bees' forehead with his own. Getting a happy purr for his trouble before settling back down on his clawed toes when Ratchet appeared at his side.

Optimus was hoovering behind Ironhide. The tall mech able to lean over all of them to rub lightly at the little yellow mechs antennas. It got him his own purr, pulling a slight smile to the Prime's faceplate as well. That large hand nearly covering all the little mech's head as he massaged at those small antennas. Until he finally pulled away when Ratchet slipped in around Jazz.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were around Hide's other side. The two of them quivering ever so slightly. An action that most beings likely would have missed. Ratchet's quick glance their way said that he didn't though. Just as the way Bee tipped his head back to grinning silly, upside down at them did.

It earned him a lip twitch from Sunstreaker, and a snort from Sideswipe, but it did succeed in making the two of them stop shaking.

"Accident prone little squirt." The low grumble had Bee finally snapping his attention around to attempt a grin at the yellow and red medic.

The look got him glared at, but he didn't drop the smirk when well-known hands were quickly mapping him. It wasn't an easy thing to do with how he was wrapped up in Ironhide's arms and still refusing to let go of Jazz's claws, but Ratchet didn't gripe at either of them.

Instead he just danced his fingers along seams and plating. Nose crinkling at the feel of the sticky energon coating him, but seemingly relived when he found almost all of it wasn't Bee's. His touch did settle on the dug in claw marks along his shoulder for a while. The tingle of a scan making the little mech wiggle in Hide's hold. It got him scolded at lightly a few times until Ratchet was apparently satisfied with the results of his scan and what he could touch.

"Well," He sighed, finally letting his hands fall away. "Not as bad as it could be, that's for sure."

"Yes," Wardrums' deep baritone of thunder suddenly echoed from a ways away where the huge mech was still circling the severed Shark head like he was looking for something. "Considering he could be dead, I'd say a bit of splattered energon and a cut is much better than that."

The mechs around him bristled up like offended robo-cats. A growl bubbling to life deep in most of their chests as they all swung their gazes around to find the huge shuttle where he was. However, before the twins could hiss out whatever it was building on Sunstreaker's tongue as the golden mech opened his mouth Bee spoke up.

"Yep." Popping the 'p' he got a whole lot of blue optics snapping down to him, including one pale red set, but he paid attention to none of it as he gaze around Ratchet's and Jazz's shoulder to find the big shuttle that had stalled in his looking. "Would be, if you hadn't caught me."

The truth was, Bumblebee wasn't quite sure what had happened. Let alone why it had happened. After the way the huge mech had acted since they had found him, it didn't make sense for him to go diving down into a pit next to two raging Sand Sharks to save him.

It didn't make sense for him to care.

Not after the way he had acted, the things he had said.

Then again, Bumblebee was starting to wonder if Wardrums was just simply one of those mechs that didn't make a lot of sense. At least to most. After all, Bee lived with quite a few mechs likes that.

The sharp way the towering shuttle tensed up, wings twitching ever so slightly behind his back as he threw a glare back over his shoulder, spoke more than any words ever could. Those fire colored optics smoldering in their intensity as they narrowed down at him. Then, he let out a booming snort, turning back to whatever task it was he was assigning himself in assessing the carcass.

Bee smirked.

Antennas flickering atop his head as he darted his gaze over to the side now to find Dustoff right where he had been. The tall tan mech staring down at him with something soft in those pale red optics of his. Lips pulled up into a satisfied tilt that made the youngling's doorwings wiggle.

Rotor blades twitching and flickering behind his back Dustoff, finally stepped forward. Cutting off sight from the stewing Autobots and his mate while reaching over and around Ratchet to grasp carefully at Bee's arm.

Clawed fingers longer than his arm turning over his limb with an ease that didn't think a mech that size should be able to pull off with one of his. Bumblebee didn't so much as twitch though.

Held there against Hide's chest he stayed as still as he could while the big mech leaned in around the others to pear at the slight cuts in his armor. He hummed lowly after a few moments, nodding to himself when he righted back up.

"Get you cleaned off, and you'll be find." Dust said easily, smile tugging at his lips while those pale red optics held Bee's bright blue ones. "How you feel about a sand bath, little one?"

Antennas twitching, Bee grinned.

* * *

Ironhide wasn't much inclined to let Bumblebee go for a while—not that anybot blamed him—but he did eventually let the little mech have his feet again after Ratchet smacked him over the back of the head yelling about how if he didn't get all that slag off of him it was going to start corroding things.

So that was how Bee found himself sitting on his aft between Hide's legs scrubbing handfuls of sand into his armor. Giggling to himself about the irony of getting dirtier to get clean, the small yellow mech couldn't help but laugh outright at Sunstreaker every now and again.

It was quite possible the golden mech was going to have some kind of fit about how filthy Bumblebee was getting before all was said and done.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you are doing to your slaggin' paint!" The elder twin barked from where he was standing just to the side of Ironhide. Hoovering like a golden thundercloud of discontent Sunstreaker stood with his arms crossed and optics narrow. Glaring down at Bee while he smirked back with a chuckle on his lips.

"You'd rather I leave the Shark energon?"

"No!" Sunstreaker bit.

Shrugging in the face of the powerful warriors temper Bee simply turned his attention back to scrubbing sand into his plating. "Only thing there is, Sunny."

"It's _ruining your finish_!"

"And you can fix it later, Sunstreaker." Ratchet appeased in a long suffering kind of tone. Sat next to Ironhide in the sand cleaning at the scrapes on Bee's arm while the young mech cleaned the rest of him. Granted, Ratchet was using a cleaning cloth for his task, but there wasn't enough of those to get the rest of the slag off the little yellow mech.

Sunstreaker would just have to get over the scruffs until they finished this damn hawk-chase of a mission and went back home.

"Relax, Sunny." Sideswipe told him softly, standing beside him.

The golden twin growled at both of them, fingers twitching against his arms where he had them crossed, but said no more. Instead, his gaze flickered up and across to find Wardrums where they had left him.

Dustoff hadn't lead them very far away from the giant holes and dead frame, but they still had walked far enough away that they couldn't hear what the massive mech was saying to himself as he worked at whatever it was he was doing to that dead Shark.

Bee was half paying attention to the shuttle and half focusing on the task of scrubbing this sticky mess off of him. Jazz and Optimus were standing behind Ratchet and Hide, blue gazes watching much like the twins were at the huge mech that they couldn't seem to figure out.

He acted like he'd rather skin Bee then have to look at him, but when the mechling falls down a pit to be ate by a Shark he dives in after him.

It apparently didn't make any more sense to them than it did to him.

The difference was, it was making them all rather testy, while Bee sat there quietly figuring things to himself.

Waiting.

Thinking.

Figuring.

Watching.

He didn't understand, not yet, but he was working on it.

Bright blue optics flickering up once again to find Dustoff. The big tan mech was standing just off to the side of them, pale red optics watching his mate as War tugged, pulled, drug, and circled at the dead frame across the way.

The tension had bled out of the huge helicopter mech now.

He stood less tightly, his rotor blades lax behind him, his armor looser. Optics less full of dark things Bumblebee didn't know how to question.

He seemed . . . almost _amused_ now.

Watching his mate wondering around a dead thing mumbling to himself after having saved Bumblebee's hide.

Antennas flickering with thought, Bee rubbed another handful of sand down his sides. Picking at the clusters of hardened, caked on fuel and dirt it made as a result. It was easier to get off of him after it all clustered together, but it was gross too.

Wrinkling his nose up at the latest bit it picked off he let his optics dart back to Dustoff again. Watching the mech watch Wardrums. Turns out, it wasn't Bee that needed start up the questioning though, Sideswipe did it for him.

"Bastard always did have a weird way of caring."

Dustoff's blades twitched behind his back, head twisting enough to let him look back at the red mech. "Figure that bit out on your own, did you?"

Sunstreaker snorted back at him. "Oh, don't start. He's a bastard and you know it. He hates pretty much everybot."

"So do you." Dustoff shot back, turning his optics back to his mate while Bee bit back a laugh at the affronted expression that came to life on Sunny's face.

"At least I didn't try to take chunks out of youngling with words because of all the ways I've screwed up." The golden mech snapped back.

"I never said what he does when he's angry at himself is right, Sunstreaker. In fact, I hit him in the jaw for it, if you might remember. He's a prickly jerk on his best of orns. You know that well. But he was willing to leak for you and your brother with no ties between you but what he saw as potential. What do you think that means he's willing to do for his sparkling sister's son? Did he not prove enough of that just now?"

For a long while after that, Bee's family was silent.

Each mech wrapped up in his own mind and thoughts about what all had happened lately until finally Bee softly said.

"So . . . you meant it . . . when you said he didn't hate me."

Dustoff turned fully then.

Those pale red optics taking up that soft quality to them again as he nodded slowly. "Yes, young one. I meant it. Because he doesn't. He'll figure out how to tell you that one orn, because I won't do much more then this for him. For now though, just stop worrying about. It will take far too much from you to please him at this point in time. You don't owe him that. Just remember this right here."

He nodded his head off toward the destruction one mech had caused to save something he called a useless runt. Bee followed the motion. Bright optics watching the huge mech for a little while before Dustoff went on.

"I think you're starting to figure it out, young one." He said, smile curling at the edges of his lips. "Hold on to that thought."

Bee's antennas flickered back and forth atop his head, but he nodded all the same.

"Now," Dust's rotor blades wiggled a bit behind him. "Are none of you going to start yelling about supposed to be extinct monsters coming back to life? I figured that was going to be happening sometime soon."

"Those things were a little too loud to be extinct." Ironhide grumbled back at him.

"You don't say?" Amusement colored Dust's voice, as well as the way his rotor blades twitched behind him.

Ironhide glared over the top of Bee's head.

The little yellow mech snickered.

"Yes, well, anyway." Dustoff shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, I'm not quite sure about this one. Because we thought they were all gone to."

"Does that have something to do with what War's doing?" Bee asked, flicking his attention back out to where the big shuttle was . . . doing whatever he was doing.

"Yes." Dust nodded. "He's trying to find age lines."

"Age lines?" Bee's head tilted, and he wasn't the only one.

"What the pit are age lines?" Jazz tagged on.

"Sand Sharks have marks, lines so to speak, inside their struts. A line for ever fifty vorns they've been alive. A pair that big . . . well pit, it takes a long time for them to grow that big. War is not convinced a pair that big could have gone this long without being noticed. If for no other reason than the amount they have to eat."

"But they were there." Optimus said. "They were very real. What other answer could their possibly be besides that that they have simply been living out here where no bot has been looking?"

"Not a good one." The amusement left Dustoff's voice as quickly as it came. His pale optics narrowing as they turned back to watch what War was doing.

After a few moment of silence followed that Jazz let out a deep growl as he gripped. "And are you not going to elaborate on that?"

Dust's rotors stiffened behind his back. "Until War is sure what is happening there is not much answer I can give you. However, there is only one thing in this whole universe that can alter a living being such as the way those would have had to be to have been what we think they are. And if that damn thing is doing that, then we have a problem."

"What are you talking about?" Optimus pressed, shifting a bit where he stood behind Ironhide.

Dustoff shrugged a shoulder. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"We might." Ratchet shrugged.

Letting out a long breath, Dust turned his attention back to them all. Pale red optics narrowing slightly as he rolled his gaze over all of them. "Your generation has lost the truths to time, I'm not sure if you could even possibly understand it."

"Try us." Sideswipe glared.

"The All Spark." Dustoff rumbled, effectively making every jaw before him drop. "The _Cube_ as your age group calls it. The only relic of the original Cybertron left. The thing the first Kings used to speed the growth of this planet after we found it. The creepy sentient hunk of space rock left over from universe destroying wars that have been lost to time. It can create worlds, a few extinct giant worms to defend itself is sparkling play to a being like that. And if that is what it has done, if it has started defending itself again, then we have a very _real_ problem. However, considering it seems you little mechling was born with a gift I haven't seen on this world in a _very_ long time we might be in luck. Because whether he likes it or not War is going to need all the help he can get. Its going to take more than one Seer to talk that damn space rock down from whatever fit its worked itself into."

"What?" The others breathed, but Bee was a little too hung up on the word the mech had used to get worried yet about the rest of it.

"Wait . . . _Seer_? _Help_ War? You mean . . . what I . . . ?"

"The fact that you see and talk to dead things?" Dustoff said as if it was fine. Like it was _normal_. Like it didn't make Bee's spark lodge up in his throat. Like it didn't make every mech behind and around him go very tense. "Yes, that is just what I mean. There is a word for that gift, little one. Though I doubt you know it. Spirit Seer. And I wasn't lying before, it has been a _very_ long time since I saw another do that. The only mech I know left alive that can do it is War. Then again, considering your coding I guess it isn't too far fetch a stretch that you might have got the code for it to."

Spark tight in his chest, breath lodged in his throat, optics wide, and mouth hanging open Bumblebee just stared at him.

There must have been something in his optics, or at least the way he looked that made Dust's expression pinch while the big mech turned away from War at last. Taking a few steps to close the distance between them until he was looking directedly down at the tiny yellow thing looking impossibly young there playing in the sand between his adopted sire's legs.

"You really thought there was something wrong with you, didn't you?" Dustoff asked quietly, pain and guilt swimming in those pale red orbs. "That's why you haven't told any of them about it. Isn't it?"

Bee's jaw worked for a nano more until he finally managed to clamp it shut. Turning enough to catch sight of Ironhide's dark blue optics staring down at him with a look Bee wasn't sure he was brave enough to pick apart.

He shrank down a little at it.

Doorwings and winglets plastering down to his back, antennas tucking down, as he swallowed hard.

Ironhide's mouth opened, jaw working a few times, then it snapped shut. He shook his head once. Optics narrowing, then widening, then finally he got his voice to work. Even if it was only to squeak out a few words. "Bee . . . what?"

Shrinking down a little bit more the young mech breathed. "I . . . I just didn't want you to think there was something the matter with me."

* * *

 **Poor little mechling, he just wants to be normal. He never will be though.**

 **Anyway, hows that? Did you catch all the things I threw in? Are you starting to notice there is something _else_ going on around here that Dust and War really need to start explaining?**

 **Yeah.**

 **We're getting there. No worries.**

 **Well, my schedule has just gotten very busy again (two new jobs and another semester of classes), not going to lie. I am not yet sure how it is going to effect writing time. Hopefully not too much. I promise you I am still picking away at GG and WOWL when ever I have a free moment though. Hang in there with me and keep an eye open on Sundays.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. It's your feedback that motivates me through the parts that don't want to flow right.** **I'll see you next chapter! ^-^**

 **-Jaycee**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Enjoy. ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 19

Ironhide had heard more than his fair share of things that made his spark hurt over his long and hard life.

Hearing the sound of energon gurgling in his carrier's throat as he choked to death on his own life's fuel while their tribe was slaughtered all around him. The cries his sparkling brother had made as he clutched him desperately to his chest to try and stop the ache surging through both of them when every one of the bonds they knew went cold in the wake of their way of life being deemed wrong by someone else. The scream that had echoed in his own throat and in his audios when that same sparkling brother along with his friends vanished from him and his family for what they thought would be forever. The sound he made when his spark broke into a billion pieces in the face of losing Mia and Whiteout. The horrible whines Bumblebee had made wheezing because of Virus Viper venom when he still fit in Hide's palm. The sound his battleship home had made crashing down in a rain of fire, and probably a whole pit of a lot more if he was bothering to think about it at the moment.

Words though, words were rarely overly painful for him.

He was a mech of action.

Built to take a hit in every way that mattered. His spark was normally one of those things. Life had made it hard. Walled off from all but a very few and very rarely bothered by things that brought others low.

For he had been born to a world of harsh realities and no second chances. He was one of the last of the tribes, the last of the powerful nomads that had fought for their right to exist until only a pair of youngling were all that was left of them.

The desert didn't accept weakness. It would strip you bare out of sheer spite.

Soft sparks had never lasted long in the way his coding had formed.

Little things like words were very rarely something that cut deep enough to truly hurt him.

He should have known though.

He should have at least been aware it was likely to happen.

That the one being in his life that was capable of cutting him straight to the spark with a few simple mumbled words would be the mechling that fell into his life and made him feel again. That pulled the cold, shivered with the hardship of life, spark of an old, tired, warrior out of the shadows and forced him to love something again. After the damned life source had long since given up on feeling much of anything ever again after he lost one sparkling and a mate that he had dared to give everything to.

One tiny, burning, brilliantly bright ball of life made Ironhide _live_ again a few dozen vorns ago.

It was the same little life that nearly killed him of a fraggin' spark attack every time he seemed to so much as breathe.

It was worth it though.

For there was nothing in this universe that the old, battered, tribal brat loved like he loved this mess of a youngling.

Maybe that was why those fear filled words hurt so very much, or maybe it was the sting settling low in his chest that taunted and sneered that maybe he didn't know his youngling like he thought he did.

That that little ball of life had been . . . _scared_ to tell him something.

 _Scared_ of him.

If he'd been able to do more than stare, the big ebony colored mech likely would have sat there with his jaw hanging down somewhere around his barrel chest, but instead he just stared. Watching the little naturally yellow youngling, striped now in Hide's own dark black, sitting there in the sand between his knees with those sensory wings of his tucking low behind his back, his stubby antennas folding down into the groves the very rarely hid in atop his head, shoulders hunching up while he shrank down there in plain sight. Fingers tangling together in a clench while those big, wide, baby blue optics flickering nervously about the many sets of blue staring widely back at him.

A heavy sound, deep in powerful flight engines snapped those baby blue orbs away from the wary glancing around him he was doing. Twisting, cold and quiet in his chest, he pinned those fear filled orbs up just in time to watch Dustoff rattle his rotor blades behind his back.

A look the little mech didn't know how to even begin to figure out flickering across those pale red optics. Then, lips, thinning Dustoff turned away from the circle of them. Locking his optics back across the sand where Wardrums still stood poking at the head of a dead Shark.

"War," He called, voice low and even. It gave nothing away but there was something about the set of those massive shoulders, the tense stain in the long black blades running down his back, and the pinch of protoform around his optics that wasn't right.

"I'm a little busy at the moment, Dust." The shuttle snorted back, kneeling down next to the heavily leaking slab of sharp metal and protofrom.

Dust's optics narrowed, voice dripping into a dark pitch that made Bee shrink a little bit more where he was huddled. Dust had gotten sorta mad once already since the young mech had stumbled into the pair of them, but he hadn't sounded cold before.

It was . . . less than reassuring.

"Get over here."

War must have heard something in that tone that Bumblebee couldn't understand for the huge mech stilled in his angry poking with claws at leaking metal. Sitting very still for a nano and a half before twisting his head to the side. Those fire colored optics shifting and lifting to find the almost as equally large form of his mate. The long, thick, powerful black wings folded down his back with the angled tips standing out at his shoulders shifting in a motion that might be called a shiver, if a mech of that size and caliber would admit to shivering at a tone of voice.

Whatever it was, it made Wardrums push himself to his feet. Hydraulics hissing in a testament to age that Bee very much doubted could be commented on and the speaker left alive. Fully upright, long claws twitching at his sides, War turned and walked toward them. Weight shifting the sand beneath his feet like liquid rolling away while it muffled the force behind those steps. However, sitting on the ground like he was Bee could still feel the waves of weight shift through the ground beneath him.

Even pinned down behind his back his winglets and doorwings were not shy in informing him of the things going on around him. He knew how the twins shifted behind Ratchet, he knew the medic was sitting there with his fingers curling in the dirt, he knew Jazz was rubbing at his sensor horns, he knew Optimus' engine was turning over and he was trying to hide it, just like he knew Hide vocal processor was choking on subsonic static.

And all that wasn't even counting what he could pull from the bonds he was slowly trying to slip closed while he curled further and further in on himself.

Head tilting back to keep those fire burning red optics in sight, he still managed to keep his chin tucked while he did it. So he was more of less staring at them from under the rim of his optics.

War's fire red optics skimmed over him, then held a little longer on the expressions around him he didn't want to think about, before finally settling on Dustoff when he came to a stop just a few paces away from them. Optic ridge lifting in question the shuttle turned an expectant look toward his sparkmate.

For a klick, Dustoff simply stared back at him with that pinch still in the corners of his optics that made War's wings twitch ever so slightly behind his back. Then, Dust lifted one long arm to hover in the air somewhere over Bee's hunched up spot in the sand, claw pointing down to a bowed helm.

"You code is apparently stronger then you think."

That optic ridge climbed a little higher in that black colored face.

Dust's rotor blades ruffled like feathers behind his back. "Seer."

War's optics widened in a pure expression of shock, the likes of which Bumblebee had yet to see the huge mech make. As soon as it was there it was gone again though. Those pools of flickering orange and red narrowing into thin slits as they snapped down to find those bright blue ones that belonged to somebot else in their terms, but now no longer could.

Burning into those lighter pulls that lowered away just as quickly as they caught. Lingering a moment longer after the youngling looked away until they snapped back up to catch hold of Dust's much paler ones.

"Come again?"

The helicopter mech's lips pulled tighter. "He. Is. A. Seer."

"Yes," Wardrums drawled, shoulders tightening. "That was the nonsense I thought you said. You are joking right? This is one of your attempts at humor. Please say it is. Because I've got a Sand Shark big enough to be as old as the last Prime with no age lines on it, which means we have a serious problem and you're telling me the _runt_ is a Seer!?"

"Yeah." Dust drawled right back. "Of course I'm joking, War. Because that's a thing that can be joked about. Obviously. You know, considering there hasn't been one besides you in, oh, I don't know, something like six millennia."

The mates glared at each other for a long moment more, and then.

 _"NO!_ I am not joking! Why would I joke about that!?" Throwing his hands over his head Dustoff growled. "I might have little more than a wisp of your gift because of the bond, but I do have a little bit of it, War. Or have you forgotten that, considering how long its been since you _opened_ your optics? Did you forget that I can see the other side shift in and out every now and again? I can no way do what you do, as you know, but I can see enough to focus on a reality shiver when I see him staring at something that seemingly isn't there. I _saw_ him do it. But you know what, don't take my word for it, why don't you do the _reasonable_ thing and _talk_ to the mechling you just saved?!"

Fire optics narrowed just a tad further while Wardrums blew out a long, hard snort. Turning his glare away from his very tense mate to pin it down on Bee again.

Bee—who was kind of wishing the sand would open up once more to swallow him, and maybe this time no bot catch him—crindged a little bit more back from that burning look. Not sure what to do under its scrutiny even before. Now he was pretty sure the massive mech was just going to shot him to be done with what he deemed annoying, or . . . well . . . Bee actually wasn't that sure.

Because the mech _had_ saved him.

Those fire optics gave nothing away though. At least nothing that wasn't contempt.

"You can't just be a normal little bastard runt, can you?" War finally sighed, something heavy seeming to come to rest on his shoulders, or at least it appeared that way when his powerful shoulders dropped like they did. Long wings twitching once behind his back before they went still as he crossed thick arms over his chest.

Bumblebee wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

After all, what exactly was a _normal_ 'little bastard runt'? Or at least, what was War's definition of it?

However, Dust saved him from having to answer. "Not with your code he can't."

"Oh," War huffed back at him. "Is it _my_ code that did it? You don't think there might be another contributing factor to all that?"

Dust's optics narrowed slightly. "None that matter at this present moment."

War just huffed again. "Besides, he's Mercy's not mine. He got the code from her."

"Technically speaking, yes." Dust conceded the point with a nod of his head. "But you were the only sibling with the dominate code-gene. Kind of makes it more you, then anything else."

"Oh mute it with your medical slag." Rolling his optics—and if Bee was reading it right—amusement flashing across a slight tilt of his lips before it vanished again when they focused in on Bumblebee's once more. "So . . . you're a Seer, huh?"

Plastered down doorwings twitched against his back, but he didn't let them pull themselves back up. "Umm . . . ."

"You've got no real idea what that is, do you?" War went on, as Bee searched himself desperately for an answer.

A quick shake of his head while he muttered. "Dust said . . . seeing things . . . ."

"Yeah." The shuttle snorted again. "Kind of goes along with the name _Seer_ , doesn't it?"

Dustoff smacked him in the arm.

He was ignored.

"So, anyway," The big mech grumbled. "Can't say I saw that coming, but well, you're already an abnormally big annoyance for something you size. Can't see where the universe would have any problem with making you more of one."

Unsure whether or not he should be offended by that or not Bumblebee just blinked.

"Life is a glitch though." War went on. "Can't do nothin' about that. Might as well just work with it."

"Yes," Dustoff huffed, amusement finally creeping back into the way the tan mech glanced between them. "Because it won't be helpful or anything. Seeing as our long lost space rock you so helpfully _misplaced_ is defending itself again. This time with giant Sand Sharks. You're not going to need help or anything like that."

"Mute it." War snapped back without so much as glancing at the other. "That is not presently relevant."

"It's not?"

"No." The shuttle snorted.

They glared at each other again, but there wasn't much heat in the look this time.

Bee was oh so very confused.

If he didn't know Mia and Hide could bicker with the best of them, rile each other up, shout and slam, and then be curled around each other nanos later he wouldn't believe these two to be mates.

They were though.

Mates that had been tied together so long they likely didn't need to so much as assess each other to know what was really going on with the other anymore. On the surface, Bee watched a petty bickering match filled with glaring and huffing, but under all that—if he dared look—they felt _very_ different.

Energy reaching out and brushing constantly.

Pulling and pushing.

Tiding and reseeding.

So tied together after so many vorns of being part of each other, neither spark so much as remembered what it was like to be without the other. Neither source of life could so much as comprehend being without the other anymore.

Like each other all the time?

Pit no.

They've lived tied together too long for that.

But loving each other more than anything else, no matter what?

Oh yes.

It was written oh so very clearly in the energy that pulsed between their sparks in hardly there little electrifying streaks of blue. In tiny waves of lightening that no one else every seemed to see dancing back and forth. Not like energy fields—for all bots could every now and again see those—but like the spark bonds themselves that if Bee focused hard enough on he could see dancing this way and that through the blackness of the cosmos.

Every now and again, in the simple still air as well.

Like right now.

Sitting there hunched in on himself trying to pretend he couldn't feel and sense the tension and confusion around him. So instead he focused in on the puzzle that was Wardrums and Dustoff.

Because really, he was still trying to figure them out.

They were like nothing else he had ever known.

And they knew something.

What . . . Bee wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure _why_ it was he thought that. Not really. There was just . . . _something_.

Something in conversations that started and then ended very differently than the energy between them wanted it to. In long looks, and hard stares. In the anger and then the pain that flowed so quickly in and out of context around them.

Dust was easier to understand, even if the wisdom in those old optics threw Bee every time he tried to look deeper into them.

War was . . . well he was War. Bee thought the big mech hated him for things he hadn't done and then something he kind of had, but then he saved him, and then he dropped him like it was nothing. He acted like nothing at all had went on. And Dust said the big mech didn't hate him.

But then . . . why.

 _Why_ to so much of it.

And how.

Like . . . _how_ was it they had a word for it.

A _word_ for the thing Bee did that no bot was supposed to know about. The thing Dust had spilled all over the sand between them. The secret that Bee had wrapped up tightly around his spark and shoved down deep where no bot would ever find it. That little _thing_ that he did that wasn't right. That wasn't _normal_. That he knew others didn't do. That they would likely freak out about if they did know he did it.

But then . . . apparently . . . War could do it to?

"So," War's deep drawl snapped Bee's attention from the thin lines of blue lightening flickering back and forth between the two mates. His attention shifting from them was enough that they faded back out of sight so when he tried to glance back they really were gone. "You can see the dead, huh?"

Bee blinked while Hide choked more than a little bit behind him. The mechling did his best not to cringe anymore then he already was.

"Umm . . . I . . . maybe?"

"Maybe?" War's optic ridges furrowed. "There is no maybe. You either can, or you can't. I doubt that is something you'd be confused whether or not you were doing. You either can see though the vale or Dust is losing his touch. So which is it?"

"I . . . uh . . . well . . . ."

Growl bubbling low in his chest War crossed his arms tighter over his chest while he shifted his clawed feet slightly as he bit out an order that the tone of demanded obedience. "In the cave, runt. What did you see in the cave?"

"Risk." The word tumbled out before he could help it.

"Risk?" War glanced at Dustoff as if seeking an explanation or at least a clarification.

"It was a robo-cat." Dustoff shrugged. "What I could make of one at least."

"A robo-cat?" Shock flickered in War's fire optics for a moment when they shot back to Bee. "You see a dead _cat_?"

"He was my cat." Muttering it kind of defensively, Bee felt his doorwings lift slightly behind him in annoyance.

He didn't like the tone the big mech used to talk about his first friend. His only friend for a good long time. The one that had died to keep him safe.

Risk wasn't something to be talked about that way.

"Well I figured it was _something_ tied to you. The dead have no use for the living unless they are tied somehow." War said it with an optic roll and a heavy snort, like Bumblebee should have already known that. Like it was a thing that should be possible. As if it wasn't completely crazy!

But then . . . .

If these two didn't seem think it was so bad . . . maybe . . . could it maybe . . . not be?

Of course that was when the other mechs grouped around him collectively having some kind of silent panic attacked seemed to get their voice back. Well, at least two of them did.

"You see _what now_!?" Sideswipe and Sunstreaker speaking together was not a new concept to Bumblebee. He'd heard them do it countless times over his life. When he was young it had amused him to no end to hear those matching voices belonging to one spark split into two different frames sync so easily back into flow with each other.

Now though.

Now it was more than a little intimidating for those deep voices to be pitched low and dark like that.

Doorwings snapping back down behind him from where they had risen slightly he twisted slightly in the sand to be able to stare up at the brothers hoovering there just to the side of him. Dark blue optics glittering with emotion that Bee didn't look at too long as he pinned his gaze back down into his lap where his fingers were clenched.

"Umm . . . Risk . . . sometimes. Sometimes I see Risk." He muttered.

Cutting the twins off with a low growl, War spoke again. "And is that _all_ you see? Just your cat?"

Antennas flickering slightly but refusing to rise back up, Bee shook his head slowly while he whispered out. "No."

War grunted a kind of sound that spoke of how much he figured that was going to be his answer. However, there was something softer about his voice as he spoke now. "Alright, what else do you see then?"

"I saw Cyber once." Bee whispered.

Ironhide made another static choke behind him, but this time those long black legs shifted with it. Bee curling into himself and away from the movement of the big mech pushing himself to his feet. Ratchet was moving too, along with Jazz. All the mechs getting themselves up.

Bumblebee did his best to disappear into the sand without moving.

It didn't work so well.

"And who is Cyber?" War pressed, that deep tone of his voice still resonating and powerful, but that softer quality had taken up residence in the undertones of it.

He didn't seem . . . angry anymore.

Though, to be honest, Bee wasn't sure if that was a thing he should be glad of or scared of.

"A mech I knew when I was little. He died in a raid trying to protect me."

"Huh." Making a low noise deep in his engines War rubbed his claws over his chin. "Sensing a bit of a pattern here, aren't we?"

Bee shrank a little bit further down, but it was more because of the burst of feeling erupting from his family then anything else.

"What the frag do you mean you saw _Cyber_!" Ironhide probably didn't mean for it to come off as angry as it sounded.

Bee knew that.

He knew his sire very well, he liked to think.

Anger was just a default of Hide's confusion a lot of the time. He was a trigger happy, cannon touting, hot head; Bee would be the first to admit it, but he loved Bee like no bot else did. That was never a concept the young mech had been confused about.

That didn't mean though, that that harsh bite of words didn't sting.

"When the ship crashed." Bee whispered, optics lock firmly on his hands bunched up in his lap. "When I woke up by myself. I sorta . . . panicked . . . a lot . . . . When I couldn't feel anybot. Sorat went off running and shouting. I would have got myself caught by some seekers if Cyber hadn't suddenly show up. He . . . he was . . . just _there_. All wispy and sorta hard to see. Like looking through thick fog that's being blown or something. Kind of transparent too, but he was there. He made me be quiet, made me look up. Realize what was going on and who was up there. He never _said_ anything, just shushed me with a finger and pointed up. When I looked back he was gone."

"The dead do not speak to the living." Wardrums said almost softly. "That law remains even for those that can see them."

Bee dared to glance at him.

Because somehow, he had _known_ that.

Not that he was sure _how_.

He just . . . knew.

His doorwings twitched.

Hide made another static sound in his chest but War's voice cut him off again.

"And this cat of yours. You saw him before the Sharks attacked, yes?"

Nodding slowly, Bee admitted in hardly a whisper. "I've seen him more than that though. Not a lot, but a few times."

"Before something important, no doubt?"

Bee nodded again.

Because yeah, you could say that, he supposed.

Humming deep in the back of his throat, War spared a glance at his mate who was smirking ever so slightly back at him.

If Bee didn't know any better, he'd have sworn Dust looked smug.

War's gaze flickered back to him, ignoring all the gaping and sputtering going on around them. "Anything else you so obviously haven't told your caretakers?"

Bowing his head a little Bee muttered. "I didn't saying anything because—"

"Because you thought there wasn't something wrong with you, right?" War cut him off, optic ridge lifting.

Bee curled a little bit tighter in on himself.

War huffed. "Old coding does not make you wrong, runt. It simply makes you different. Now tell me what else you are hiding."

Bee's head snapped back up. Confusion and shock ripping around him like waves while the same emotions swam in his optics as they snapped up but to War.

The shuttle didn't look impressed.

"As I'm sure you know, seeing and hearing things goes a little bit beyond just the dead. Now tell me the rest of it."

"I . . . ." A glance was shot at Ironhide, Optimus, Ratchet, Jazz, the Twins, before he pinned his gaze back on his lap. "I can talk to . . . well . . . sparks others can't . . . I suppose . . . ."

"Animals?" Wardrums pressed.

Bee nodded.

"He can do that to, little one. Part of the code. Whole thing is basically a spark more in-tune to the energy around you to begin with. When you look at it like that it isn't that much of a stretch now is it?" Dustoff's smooth, rich, deep voice chimed in quietly, but Bee could hardly make himself look up at him.

He was too busy peeking about his family.

War opened his mouth again, after giving a hard look to Dust, but it was Jazz's voice croaking out that made the huge mech pause in whatever he was going to say.

"You . . . Bee . . . you," The abnormal stammering from a mech so normally smooth and collected made Bee turn enough to stare up the silver mech again. The wary expression on his faceplate making the silver mech choke on his own tongue for a moment before he managed to squeeze out. "You . . . talk to animals . . . ?"

"Scout and Echo." Bee admitted quietly. "Yeah. Not like . . . it's not like talking to you. They can't _. . . speak_. . . not like we do at least, but, well, their sparks. We talk . . . like bond talk."

"Talk." Ratchet breathed out. "You _talk_ to your hounds?"

Another slow, wary nod.

Sunstreaker made a sound low in this throat that was a little too much like a whine to be called anything else while Sideswipe mumbled. "How . . . how _long_ have you been . . . _doing_. . . that exactly?"

Optics lowering again Bee whispered with a self-deprecating twist to his lips. "Umm. Sorta . . . always?"

Optimus' engine turned over in a way that couldn't be healthy.

Hide made that static sound again.

Bee stared hard at the sand as he rushed out. "Not . . . not the ghost thing. Th-h-hat hasn't been always. That started just a little while ago. I've still been trying to figure out what was going on. I was . . . I was scared . . . I didn't know what was happening. Scout and Echo didn't seem to think anything was the matter. They acted like it was normal or something. But I mean considering they were talking to me in the first place then that itself wasn't normal. The thing with the talking to animals though, that, yeah, that was, uh . . . kind of an always thing. I . . . I didn't think anything was weird about it at first. Really! When I was little, I didn't know it was weird. I thought it was a thing every bot did, but after a while with the pups I figured out you all weren't ignoring them, you just couldn't hear them. I was the only one that could. I figured out it was just me. I . . . I didn't know I was different at first. And the ghost thing, that's so new. I . . . I didn't know . . . I . . . I just . . . didn't know."

His rambling trialed off into silence for a few long breaths after that until Ironhide managed to choke out.

"You were scared." His sire said with halting syllables. "You were _scared_ of something going on right in front of all of us, that we had no idea about, and you _wouldn't_ tell me."

Wings pinning down tighter, Bee glared at the sand trying very hard not to cry at the wounded tone his sire spoke in.

"What was I supposed to say?" He whispered, hardly a breath, but it boomed in the audios of the mechs that had raised him. "Something like, 'Hey, Hide, how was your shift? Good? Good. That's great. Oh, by the way, I sorta started seeing my dead cat in the hallways and I have no idea what is happening inside my own damn spark. Just thought I'd let you know. You know, like I never told you I can talk to my hounds. Or the fact that I see more of sparks then I think any of you _actually_ realize.' Was that what you wanted to hear, Hide? Was that what I should have done?"

Silence answered him.

Tight, and heavy, and fully of loaded words holding the power to tear down everything any of them had ever really cared about.

Biting back the sniffle rising in his throat Bee choked out again.

"I _knew,_ okay?" And Primus damn it there were tears in his optics! "I _knew_! I knew I wasn't normal. I knew I wasn't right. I knew the things I did weren't what others did. I knew there was something weird about me. Not always, but I figured it out." He choked out a bitter laugh that was full of more tears now then anything else. Pulling a hand free from the tangle he had them in to scrub harshly at his now wet cheeks. "I'm not _that_ naive. I just . . . I didn't _want_ to be different. I just . . . I didn't want you to think something was wrong with me . . . ."

It ended on a hiccuped breath that tore through him loudly and without his consent. Tears pooling in his optics no matter how hard he squeezed them shut. Sliding down his cheeks in long ribbons of blue. He scrubbed at his cheeks, sniffling and trying to hide it even if he knew there was really no point. He was doing a pretty good job of blocking out what he was reading, but he knew he had to be broadcasting his own emotions at this point.

He had never been very good at hiding his emotions.

He'd never had much need to.

At least, no _real_ need.

It wasn't easy for a spark like his, as open as it was, to hide what it was feeling. Not from the ones it clung so very desperately too.

Especially not now.

Not when he was spilling out the secret he had kept locked up inside him for . . . well his whole life really.

That one scary, terrifying, life altering concept he had worked every orn of his life as far as he could tell, to keep hidden.

The fact that he wasn't what they all thought he was.

That he was . . . _different_.

That he was pretty sure there was something very wrong with him.

Normal bots didn't talk to animals, they didn't see ghosts, and they didn't share head space with a talking ball of light that had stole the form of a dead pet and could apparently do much more than just talk to him when it _spoke_ through him before he locked it up deep within him and hadn't dared look at it again yet.

And yeah, he's very aware he hasn't thrown that little tid-bit out there yet.

And no, he doesn't have any plans to at the moment either.

Seeing dead things verse talking to weird friend things in his head that has been there since he could remember.

Yeah.

He was going to stick with the dead things and the talking to animals bit right now.

If his family was going to disown him, might as well be for the _less_ freaking slag, right?

"And this," War's drawl was the last thing he expected after that little ramble, the shock of it snapping his wet optics up to find the big mech glaring at . . . Optimus? Really? Why was he glaring at Optimus? Oh. And jabbing a sharp claw down toward his stupidly sniffling self. " _This_ is why your damn sire is the bane of my existence. Which is saying a lot, you know, considering how long I've been alive and who all I hate. But destroying every fabric that was left of our races history. That's on _your_ sire's bastard head. If he hadn't been such a functionist glitch maybe there would still be some idea left among you idiot younglings that now for some reason rule this planet about just _what_ coding can do in certain bots. Maybe then your foundling wouldn't think he was some kind of freakish anomaly."

Optimus reeled back like he was struck.

Bee choked on a half-formed sob glancing wildly between them before pinning his focus on those fire optics as they pinned him back.

"And you," War huffed, optics dancing over his crumbled features and wet sobs. Despite the harsh bite of his tone though there was no longer anger in his words. There was almost . . . desperation? "Stop your fraggin' blubbering. There is nothing else you could do that would make you more Primus damn useless. So stop it right now, and _listen_ to me. There is nothing _wrong_ with you! You are made up of coding that hasn't been seen in this planet's history, yes, but that does not make you wrong. Different? Yes, hate to break it to you, runt, but you will always be that. Nothing anybot can do about it. You just are. Get the pit over it. But that does not mean something is _wrong_ with you. If there had been a shred of sense left in this damn race maybe there would have been some text left around to prove that to you. However, since there is none, I'll spell it out for you now. Dormant traits of a forgotten time do not make you broken in some idiot way. You want to get technical about it, it actually makes you a whole the pit of a lot more than any of these damn fools around you. In my age Seers were honored, they didn't hide behind irrational fears. So stop fraggin' crying about it. There should have been somebot to explain that to you, but unfortunately all your caretakers are idiots."

"Well it wasn't like you were around to say anything! He never said anything! How were we supposed to know what it was anyway!?" Jazz sudden snarl came before Bumblebee could so much as think of a response to that, to the way War shifted _uneasy_ in the face of tears of a tiny little mech.

All that somewhat hidden apprehension was gone in a blink though as those fire red optics blazed back to their normal anger when they snapped up to hold Jazz's visor.

"Oh?" The massive mech snarled. "Would you have rather I kept the mechling so he could have never been your foundling?"

His family went rather ridged.

"Might have made everything easier in the long run that way. Now that I think about it."

"War," Dust's voice wasn't so much of a warning as it held a kind of reminder. The tone sparking between the two like the energy Bee could see flex in and out. "Many things you are, my mate, but a sire has never been one of them. You never wanted to keep him, it was not the way of things. Do not start a fight over what would have never been. Please. Don't we have enough at risk here?"

The shuttle huffed hard, fire optics narrowed back into Ironhide's cold, dark blue ones while cannons whirled and turbines spun. Bee sank down all the more in between the two rising tides of anger while Hide growled out.

" _You_ gave him up!" The ebony mech spit out, fist clenching at his side while the heavy cannon barrels at his arms rotated and whirled with the heating plasma they were starting to glow with. " _You_ blew that chance vorns ago. He's _my_ mechling now!"

Wardrums' lips curled back over his fangs. "Mercy made a choice. _I_ was never a part of it. _I_ never wanted him to begin with. But at least I would have been able to tell him he wasn't insane."

"Then maybe you should have been around to do such." Optimus growled back, fist clenched much like Hide's while his own engine turned over in a low, dark growl.

A snarl tore through War again, claws flexing at his sides while his fangs sparkled on display, but Dustoff snaking a hand out to latch hold of his upper arm stilled him. Long, tan claws curling around a truly thick bicep hard enough to squeeze thick armor.

The huge shuttle looking away from the glaring he was doing down at the grown mechs in favor of casting those fire orbs over to Dust again.

Bumblebee didn't know what that look in those pale optics meant, but War seemed too. For he let out another heavy breath that made flight engines and turbines spin a few more times until he finally looked away from those pale optics. Gaze skirting over the bristled up mechs around him before settling back down on Bee still huddled up there in the sand.

"What is, is what is." He said heavily, voice neither angry nor calm while his optics swept over the little mech. "Can't undo the past. There is nothing wrong with you, settle that within yourself. No one but you can do it. For now, have a conversation you should have had a long time ago. We'll address the rest of it later. It appears I have a lot to teach you. That code is a gift, but any gift can be a curse if it is not handled properly. You're no where near knowledgeable enough to deal with it on your own. The dead are not meant to exist for the living. Seeing the other side comes at a cost."

And with that, the big mech turned away. Armor rattling down from the bristle all over him that it had been. Heavy peds shifting the sand like waves around him only to freeze up when Bee quietly squeaked out.

"I-i-i-is that what Star is?"

Every strut in Wardrums' back stiffened up. His back armor flared while his wings hiked upward from his shoulders before he managed to make them relax back down. Those shoulders didn't loosen though. Not even when he slowly turned back around to stare down at the little yellow mech huddled up in the sand.

Bee didn't know what Dust had done at the words. Didn't notice the way his rotor blades flared out behind him, spinning one full circle before he managed to get them back under control. That pale red gaze snapping back down to pin on him.

He didn't pay any attention to his family shift and stare.

He just watched War slowly turn himself back around to stare at him. Fire optics blazing, but not with anger. They were glowing with something Bee wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

"What?" War rumbled, voice tight, deep, and dark. Blazing optics pinning Bee in such a way that the couldn't look away now even if he wanted to.

He had thought it best to keep that last little secret locked up. Star had gone quiet, after all. He hadn't so much as pulsed in Bee's spark since that little episode in the cave.

Bee had been quite content to not so much as think of his _little friend_ again. Well, until he undoubtedly came back at least.

But then War had said that, and a fear deep inside Bumblebee rose up before he could stop it. Wrapping around his spark and searing his vocal processor without his consent. He'd spoke before he meant to.

Now, there was no taking it back.

And there was no searing feeling through his spark like last time he'd tried to say the words.

It appeared Star couldn't or wouldn't stop him this time.

"Star." He whispered, mindful of the moment the name made those inferno optics blaze bright only to be smoldered out when he clenched his fists.

"Yes," War rumbled. "That is what I thought you said."

Bee swallowed hard.

"What exactly do you mean, runt, when you say _Star_?"

"I . . . I-I-I . . . I'm not sure." Bee admitted quietly. "He . . . _It_. . . no, no, I'm almost positive he's a he. If you can call an imaginary voice inside my head that stole my dead cat's form when I was a sparkling a _he_. Can you call that a He? Is that normal? Is that part of the . . . Seer thing?"

 _Please._ He whispered to himself. _Please, let that be what you say is okay too._

The way Wardrums and Dustoff were staring at him wasn't getting his hopes very high up there though. For the mates just _stared_ at him. Two very different shades of red staring deep into his own bright blue with the sound of slightly heavier than normal vents in his audios. He wasn't sure if they were his or if they were theirs.

He couldn't make himself focus on enough of anything to find out.

He could only stare.

Scared.

Shivering.

Huddled up tightly in on himself.

Waiting for an answer he was terrified to hear.

War didn't give him an answer though. Because as soon as the huge mech opened his mouth, optics blazing, lips twisting, only for him to snap his jaw back together when a heavy droning lowly came over the silence of the desert.

Optics widening slightly War threw his gaze up to the sky, Dustoff, and Bee's family doing the same. Bumblebee daring to tear his optics away from the huge shuttle in favor of trying to figure out what it was the mech was looking at. That low droning, heavy, hard, and pulsing not something the young mech had ever heard before.

Bright blue optics flickering this way and that at the sand and then the sky. Trying to figure out what it was only for a flicker of black among the grey clouds to catch his attention.

Snapping his glancing back to that spot he watched, confusion swirling in his chest and processor as a massive sharp bow cut through the drifting clouds. The form of a ship darkening the clouds behind that cutting bow until they broke them. Surging through the bright sky and cloud cover like a dark arrow.

Bee had enough time to blink, think to himself _our ship isn't black,_ and then laser fire rained down on them.

* * *

 **The little mech's luck just keeps getting worse doesn't it?**

 **Poor sparkling.**

 **I can't wait to see what you thought! ^-^ See you next chapter.**

 **-Jaycee**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Only the plot and OCs.**

 **Holy Primus, I got a GG chapter done. Its only a little bit insanely late . . . yeah. Blame War, he's an argumentative aft.**

 **Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 20

The explosion of plasma burned down hot enough that when it struck the sand it seared it into glass. Blooms of rainbow shards arching from the red sand as thundering cannon fire lit up Bumblebee's whole world into a blue-hot rain of noise and heat.

Scrambling on the slick sand he just managed to roll up and out of the way of two blast that slammed hard enough to send him reeling again. Blue optics widening at the splatters of colored glass that took the sands place even as he desperately tried to get his feet back under him.

Part of him was aware of the snapping into action that started up around him. Aware of the sound of Hide's cannons, of the twins' blades, of Jazz's blaster, of Optimus whirling axe, of Ratchet's own weapons. More so then that though, he heard the hum of powerful flight engines kicking into weapons drive. Dustoff's long, black rotor blades whirling to life behind him. All under the roar of War's powerful engines.

He was stumbling around sliding sand like a drunk cat for another nano while the world went up and fire and noise around them. Only for a large black hand to once again close around the back of his scruff bar. He went totally limb before he even registered it.

"Useless tiny little runt! Dust! Take this! Again!"

Great.

War did not sound happy. Somehow, that was worse then the giant black ship raining fire down on their heads.

And then he was airborne. Tumbling head over feet with a squeak he would venomously deny until he was snatched up by strong tan arms. Yanked in and clutched close he had little choice to snatch hold of the sparkling-hold's in Dust's armor—and holy pit how weird was it to be beside a mech big enough that such things were still the right size for him—as the huge flier twisted under the plasma fire.

Huddling up close to the pounding spark on the other side of that thick, hot armor, he pinned his sensory appendages in an effort to get his head to stop spinning while explosions rocked the ground around him.

Dustoff was moving. Spinning, ducking, his rotor blades whirling, while plasma and glass shattered around them. It was only after a moment though that Bumblebee realized something. Shots were _bouncing_ off them.

Bright blue optics widening he threw his gaze up and around.

Force field?

Dust . . . had a _force field?_

No fraggin' way.

Bumblebee blinked hard, but the pulsing wall of crackling blue energy around them stayed put. Deep in his chest, his spark pulsed hard, and he finally registered it.

Energy.

Pure, powerful energy.

That was all a force field really was after all. Bee had only seen one mech in his life capable of making one. Trailbreaker, and even then, he'd only seen him do it a few times. For it wasn't something a bot that was capable of it did lightly.

Force fields were no fancy mode one picked up somewhere. Oh no. They were a born with ability. Something along the lines of Bumblebee's spark—he guessed—and warp drives. Force fields were nothing more than an ability to funnel energy. To contort one's spark energy into a barrier that burned so hot almost nothing could get through it.

It came at a price though.

It drained a bot both physically and mentally. Pulling from not only fuel reserves, but plasma, and most importantly spark as well. It was a talent that could kill if it was used unwisely.

Bumblebee remembered only very vivid time of Trailbreaker ending up in the medical bay for cycles lost in induced recharge while his spark tried to slowly reboot itself and recover. He remembered Ratchet's tight expression while Hound had rung his hands and worried for his sibling.

He remembered how slow and tired the big black mech had been when he was finally released from the medical bay. He remembered how long it had taken him to act like himself again.

Bee remembered that he'd only held the thing for about twenty klicks.

An explosion to the left waved a wall of blue fire over them that made Dustoff grunt. The flashing field around them drawing in closer so that it hardly flickered over Bee's back. The whimper that escaped him at the pulses of fire around them made him want to kick himself, but it was there all the same.

His wide optics watching through the pulsing field of blue while Jazz was slammed by something and crashed backward into the sand. His spark leaping to his throat as he realized it was a mech.

Blaster shots fired, Jazz claws threw sunlight as they swiped, and energon splattered.

Dustoff spun again, his rotor blades humming as the turned swift behind his back, it was the arm he had raised over the back of Bee's back that he heard the most though. There, on his wrist was his tail rotors. Shorter, sharper, and more weapon in this form than anything else.

They hummed, crackling energy as they turned in rhythm with blaster shots he was firing with his other arm.

Another turn.

Sideswipe's duel blades buried in some unfortunate mech's gut before he kicked the grey frame away from him. Spinning back from another blast of plasma burning into glass against the sand. Sunstreaker dancing around his back, guarding Ratchet with his own blaster leveled upward firing at the ship sinking dangerously close overhead.

Over the firing cannons he could still hear that thundering pulse of engines the likes of which he'd never come across before. Nearly drowning out all else.

Ironhide's wailing cannons, and Optimus' axe clashing against somebot's armor, Ratchet's saws slicing protoform, the splatter of energon over sand. And there, under it all, the powerful surge of War's flight engines.

He was airborne.

Somewhere.

Bee was too busy trying to get too dizzy as Dustoff spun and fired to find out where.

But there was screaming going on, other flight engines, and crashes into the sand. None of which sounded like anything he recognized. The thing he did recognize though, was the searing anger surging through the huge mech.

No matter the distance between them, Bee could feel it. Coursing through a link that was hardly there yet. Hot, and black, and thick. Dripping like acid from his spark to form a choke hold around Bee's senses.

It was hatred.

Hatred the likes of which Bumblebee had never come across before.

It seemed to swallow up every other thought and feeling Wardrums' had until he was left with only one coherent thought.

 _Kill him._

The question Bee didn't get though; was kill who?

Who the pit had that giant aft ship that was trying to turn them into red glass?

Most probably would have also wondered why Wardrums hated them so much, but while Bee was choking on the emotion the huge mech was broadcasting through his spark he didn't have enough of his senses left for that.

Then, over the explosions and fighting and surging engines the huge shuttle roared.

"LOCKDOWN!"

Dustoff cursed, stumbling, his force field finally flickering out. The hand clutching Bee tightened. His knees hit the sand, vents wheezing, whole frame trembling, and atop Bee's pinned antennas energon dripped.

Then the world went white.

* * *

White noise.

It hurt like all of pit.

Like a burn, mixed with a migraine, mixed with a system error, mixed with accidentally shutting his doorwings in a door.

For there was . . . _nothing_. But it was a different kind of nothing.

Unconsciousness and the blackness that came with it was a blessing. For it stopped everything. White noise was different.

For it was nothing, but at the same time there was everything. It was too much input, too much sound, too much feeling, too much . . . _too much_. All while none of it was processable. So it was nothing. Yet it wasn't.

And it _hurt_.

Bumblebee had never really . . . _felt_ it before.

He'd heard of it, sure. Jazz and the twins had been hit with enough EMP blasts over the vorns that they were very through in his education of understanding them. So he knew what was happening to him. Laying there flat on his back in the sand choking on stalled vents, blinking at white spots, audios ringing with nothing but static, and spark stuttering off rhythm. That didn't mean he didn't slightly panic about it though.

Wheezing, fingers and toes flexing but not listening to him. He stared through bright, white flashing spots at the looming black shape hoovering now overhead. Long anchor cables had been shot from the bow and sides. Chain and wire woven together with sharp hooks. Drove with force into the splattered, hardened sand. One of which seemed to have drove down just inches from where Bumblebee lay blinking.

He couldn't work up enough coordination to even flail about that.

All he could do was blink through white spots at the huge anchor.

Slowly, audios ringing and every joint inside him aching, he managed to twist his head the other way. Then, he wished he hadn't.

Wardrums was fighting.

Raging.

Chains, lines, plasma ropes, prod irons, arrows with lines still attached, and more snatched into his armor. Energon streaming down holes, tears, and cuts in his armor cutting down to the protoform underneath. Most of it was his, a lot of it wasn't.

Dozens of bots were attacking him, most holding on to the chains and ties keeping him on the ground. All of them struggling to hold the huge mech as he twisted this way and that. Swiping and crushing anything he could get his claws on.

They hadn't managed to get him to his knees. His ped claws still dug hard into the sand keeping him upright. As Bee watched through the spots in his vision more mechs surged forward from the ship's open belly. Shooting more bolts of pure energy with hooks attached.

It was short range EMP's wrapped up in chain bolts.

That was actually pretty clever. For they would bring a mech down, make him easier to catch, but they wouldn't kill him.

Not yet at least.

Horror was starting to creep into Bumblebee's chest.

War was yelling, he could tell that much from the movement of his mouth. That and all those trying to keep a hold of him as they shot him. All of them desperately trying to bring him to his knees while staying out of reach of those long arms. Many were not successful.

Laying there with his doorwings pinned painfully behind him he watched War tear six mechs from the ground by retching up the wire they were holding. Slinging them headlong into another bunch so they all went flying.

Bee's optics chashed the momentum to find Dustoff struggling on his knees. He wasn't that far away from Bee. A few hundred yards maybe. The little yellow mech wasn't all that sure how they got separated in the first place. There the huge helicopter was though.

Both arms yanked painfully away from his frame. Leaking heavily from the prong hooks digging into him. Tearing away armor from protoform in long rows that in some places Bee could see the struts under the protoform.

He thought he might be sick.

Long flashing purple ropes and chains were slung at him too. Pulling him down almost horizonal on his knees. He looked like he was snarling—Bee still couldn't hear over the buzzing in his head—but there was energon running down his lips. Near him Jazz was laying pinned beneath two much larger mech's feet. One with pulsing ropes wrapped around Jazz's upper frame while the other had a blaster shoved to the middle of his cracked visor.

Jazz spit energon at the mech.

Ironhide was just a ways form him. Pinned on his knees with pulsing chains. Energon pouring down from several shots torn into his chest. Both cannon wielding arms had been forced to the sand, one leaking lava like hardening plasma out to hiss against the red ground.

His cannon reserves were leaking.

That . . . that wasn't good.

Bee threw his gaze, still dancing spots, the other direction. Finding Optimus fighting for his feet and loosing against dozens of mechs throwing chains and ugly hooks like they were at War. He had a sword embedded deep in his left shoulder. His own axe slicing into his thigh. Energon rolling freely down his dark armor from both. The wires and chains holding him in an awkward half stumble he was attempting to fight kept him still no matter how much he was obviously fighting.

Behind him was the twins laying sprawled and still with pulsing chains wrapped around them. Energon puddled around them, and for a moment Bumblebee was terrified. Their color didn't fade though. They were just knocked out. Or maybe the same EMP burst that had him lying there unable to move with his audios nothing but static hit closer to them.

Ratchet was on his knees near them. His arms chained behind his back and energon dripping down his side while he growled at the handful of mechs chaining him down.

His blue optics fixed on the prone mechs in front of him before darting over to watch War. Bee followed the sight line to find War had been brought to one knee. Over two dozen more pulsing chains dug into and wrapped around his armor. Energon leaking even faster down the tears they were digging into him. Those fire red optics still blazed through. Burning with furry as they locked across the sand.

Bee tilted his chin as much as he was able, the slight movement making his joints ache and his spinning processor flash error after error at him. He managed to catch sight of the mid-sized slate-grey mech though. For a moment, confusion flashed through the young mech. Because . . . what?

What was _this_?

That mech . . . . He wasn't anything overly impressive.

Not huge, not bulky, not shiny.

He was . . . dull almost.

Normal.

But those emerald green optics shining from a stern, narrow faceplate burned with dark amusement and cruelty. A calculated kind of cruelty that bland expression his faceplate wore only made worse. He carried a rifle mode that looked more than a little impressive in the armor of each arm. Strolling from the bay door of the ship across the splatter and glass burned sand he made no move to lift it though.

He simply walked like he owned the world.

Glaring around at the collection of powerful mechs his bots had managed to pin down. When that calculating green gaze swept from one mech to the next they growled things Bee couldn't hear over the ringing in his audios, but when that sharp gaze found him they stilled.

For a nano, around the fading spots of white flashing through his vision, Bee stared back at the mech who wasn't as tall as the twins or Ironhide let alone War and Dust. His spark sinking in its chamber when he tried to move and couldn't. His rattled joints and stunned processor not able to coordinate the movements he wanted. All he could do was lay there and blink.

Under that sweeping bright green gaze until the mech huffed, and twitched his hand.

Movement shifted behind him, his slowly returning senses were aware of it. Desperately, Bee was internally fighting his overrides and failsafe's. Rerouting everything Jazz had ever tried to teach him in an effort to force his systems through the reboot they were running. To make himself be able to move and the ringing in his head to stop.

He managed it.

Seven nanos of programs and overrides burning through his processor and the last one clicked into place. Sound came rushing back, his vision cleared, and feeling returned. Just in time for a mech to plant a ped in the middle of his chest. The heavy step knocked what air he managed to suck in back out with hard whoosh.

His hands snapping up to latch hold of the delicate wiring to be found in ankle joints just like Chromia had taught him. Only for him to freeze up with a squeak when the burning bright point of a rifle blaster smacked him between the optics.

He went very still.

Hardly breathing as that step twisted a bit harder into his chest. Pressing far more weight than he had against the harder armor of his chest. His breathing wheezed. Vents hardly able to pump against the mech's weight, while he stared up around the glowing end of the barrel. Looking to find the faceplate of the mech holding him at a trigger point.

He was good sized, strong. Painted in a rich bright green highlighted in stripes of black. He had a mesh cape that was thickened by panels of armor wrapped around his shoulders. The billow of it blowing in the hard wind the ship's engines were giving off. The sound of them loud in the background of Bee's thoughts while he wheezed up at the mech holding him. Taking in the rounded, silver faceplate, but more than anything else, the goggles he wore over his optics.

They were sniper goggles of some kind. Bee knew that much from things Hide had taught him. One lens red, one lens blue, made to help a bot see further and more than any normal optics could do.

Those lenses were shifting and spinning as they gaze back at him. Hiding the optics behind him, but not the grim, hard line of the mech's jaw. He huffed, the rifle pressing against Bee's forehead with a warning whirl of energy.

Bee gulped, and relaxed his fingers against the mech's foot. But he didn't move.

Behind him, Ironhide and Optimus struggled, Jazz growled, and Ratchet seethed. Dustoff's heavy, pained breathing finally came to him.

It was Wardrums' that his audios focused on though. He couldn't dare turn to look, but he could hear the rumble deep in the huge shuttle's chest. The energy draining chains and ropes were singing as the worked with the grunt and growls of the mechs working to keep the others still.

Finally, a heavy bang and Bee knew they had gotten War on his knees.

The young yellow mech was almost glad he couldn't look back to see that.

"Well, well, well," The slate-grey mech chuckled. His voice a raspy kind of deep that made Bee's plating crawl far more than the blaster pressed between his optics did. "Look how the mighty have fallen."

War snarled.

"Really, Wardrums? Growling? Is that all you have left?" The mech snorted an ugly sounding chuckle. "I'm disappointed. I expected more of a fight from you, I'll admit. But you did cut through a good portion of my obviously overpaid help."

The frames littering the sand in various states of death and leakage mixing with cooling sand and plasma was a smell Bee wished he could get out of his nose.

Other than turbines turning over the massive shuttle was silent.

"I'll be charging you for that. Even if they were useless." The nonchalant way he said it was horrible. Like death of bots that worked for him, doing what he told them to, like it was nothing made Bee's fingers itch to clench.

From the corner of Bee's optics, he could see the slate-grey mech turn. His gaze sweeping over where they had pinned Dustoff. The green opticed mech let out another raspy laugh.

"You're not looking so good there, Dustoff. Didn't anybot every tell you force fields aren't meant to be played with?"

"Go to pit, Lockdown." Dustoff wheezed, pain in every syllable he spoke.

Bee bit back a whimper.

The mech pinning him shifted a bit in his stance. His gaze lifting to watch across the sand instead of the mechling at his feet.

"Aww, come now, Dust. Is that anyway to talk to an old friend?" Lockdown, as he was called apparently, cackled. The sound of sand shifting meaning he was strolling through the sand presumably toward where the massive mechs were pinned.

"We were never friends." Dustoff spit, voice gurgled with energon.

"Oh, now I'm hurt." Lockdown rasped, steps sounding like he turned away. By the growl War let out, it was likely near him. "Really, Dustoff. You've wounded me. It's a shame. I am curious though, what your two are doing out here. Shouldn't you be sulking around a cave somewhere like a good last of your breed?"

"Shouldn't you be selling out your own kind?" Dustoff growled back.

Lockdown snorted. "Oh I am. Do you have any idea how much Sentinel's youngest is worth? Not to mention a pair of twins? Oh yes, this has been a happy little accident for sure. Getting you two out of the mix just makes it even more fun. Though I wonder . . . ."

The sand shifted again, and the green mech with the goggles holding him down pinned his hidden optics back on him.

"What is it about some half-grown runt that would make Dust nearly drain himself dry, huh?"

Ironhide snarled, Jazz hissed, Optimus' deep baritone started only to be cut off in a choke of what Bee didn't know was an energy drain rope around his throat.

"He's nothing." War said it blankly. There was none of the anger, and the fury that had been there just a few short klicks before. There was just this empty black nothingness in this tone that made Bee shiver.

"Nothing?" Lockdown scoffed. "Really? He doesn't look like nothing. In fact, he looks very familiar."

Ironhide snarled even louder. His cannons trying to pulse, but with one severally damaged he was doing himself more harm then good.

"He seems to mean a great deal to _them._ " Lockdown added, his steps coming closer in the sand. "Wearing a Bot brand and all."

The mech holding a gun to him tightened his hold on the rifle's handle.

Bee swallowed hard.

"He's a complication." Wardrums' rumbled, the words like a punch to Bee's spark. "Nothing more."

 _He's lying._ He hissed to himself. Trying to stay as still as possible. _He's lying. He's trying to protect you. He doesn't like you, sure, but he . . . he doesn't think your that. He's saved you before. That's all this is. Dust said it, he's an aft. That's all._

That didn't make it hurt less though.

"Oh . . . a _complication_ you say?" Lockdown was close now, the taunt in his voice scary in a way nothing else Bumblebee had ever heard was.

This wasn't the same kind of scary as his home falling out of the sky. The same fear that came with living a life of war. Of Megatron looming ever in the background waiting for whatever he'd do next.

This was a . . . cold kind of fear. Something drug up from deep down in Bee's chest. A fear he couldn't put a reason or a right too. Just blind terror surging up through his chest until he couldn't think straight. Staring up at the blue glowing rifle pressed against his head.

"Yes. I imagine something that looks that much like your sparkling sister would be that for you. You know, considering what happened to her. Deathtoll got a little more than he bargained for in spiting you didn't he?"

 _Deathtoll?_ Bee's spark clenched. _What?_

"There was a price out for this little mech, wasn't there? A very high one."

Dustoff hissed.

"You two responsible for ending that?" Lockdown laughed. "Oh, that's rich. War reduced to guarding his bastard nephew. A nephew by _Deathtoll_! Oh, this is just too good! I wouldn't have thought you'd care, War."

"I don't." War's frame shifted in a shrug. Or at least that was what Bee thought he did. The hooks and holds pinning him down squealed so he was either trying to stand, or shrug. One or the other.

"You don't?" Lockdown mocked, the sand sliding under his feet as he turned back to face the massive mech on his knees. "Well then, you won't mind if I kill him."

It was like all the air went out of the clearing.

Silence, somehow, under the thunder pulse of the ship hoovering above them when Wardrums huffed back.

"You'll save me the trouble later."

Bee choked on the feeling the words stabbed through his chest.

Ironhide shrugged against the bots holding him. Breaking free of enough chains to get halfway up only be brought back down even harder after two steps. A pained grunt left him for half a nano but that didn't stop him from shouting.

"You touch him I'll melt you alive, you damn glitch!"

Optimus fought and failed to get free. Jazz was twisting against those pinning him, hissing all the while. Ratchet snarled, his saws spinning, but he couldn't get his arms free. The twins had yet to so much as twitch.

Lockdown huffed a laugh. "I'm not going to _touch_ him."

The mech above him pressed his foot harder against Bee's laboring chest.

"Crosshairs?" Lockdown called, the mech pinning Bee huffing at it. "If you please? I have no use for a youngling runt. Especially one that Deathtoll is looking for. And since I obviously can't use him against you, War, I doubt you'll mind watching. Crosshairs, get rid of him."

Spark hammering hard in his throat, Bee gapped up at the blaster pointed down at him. His fingers tightening in the ankle joints above him only to have the mech stamp his foot down hard. All the air was knocked out of him, his vison swimming. Spots dancing around his vision again as he listened to the rifle above him charge.

There was a flick of emotion for the first time through the field above him. Or maybe his was just so widely pulsing he was picking up things that weren't there. He could have sworn, for half a nano though, that the mech holding him there at rifle point felt _bad_.

But then the feeling was gone, and he was whimpering with his vents heaving as the rifle above him charged. The hot energy whirling as it warmed and the trigger straining under pressure.

Ironhide along with the rest of his family were screaming.

Bee squeezed his optics shut. Quickly walling up his spark to try and not scream his terror back at them.

Then suddenly, the weight on his chest was gone. The mech tumbling into the sand with a yelp of pain, a dagger lodged in his chest. The rifle blast slamming into the sand two inches from his head.

He stared.

He was . . . loose?

Crosshairs was cursing, struggling upright in the sand. His blaster charging another shot as those goggles spun to find him again.

Bee blinked back. Not comprehending what it was he was looking at. Then War's roaring caught his audios. That thundering voice pitched into something between anger and fear. The mix of emotion wrapping up around his spark with almost as much strength as the sudden grab through his bonds.

"RUN! YOU DAMN LITTLE RUNT!"

His frame surged into action with no thought on his part. The hot-cold grip that had wrapped around his spark shoving him into movement without his processor knowing it. Scrambling to his peds he nearly went back down on his face when a blaster shot clipped his shoulder.

The sharp whimper leaving him as he stumbled. Arms wind milling in an effort to keep his balance. His doorwings aching as they lay pinned against his back just like his antennas in his grooves.

He forced them up.

Overriding his frame's response to the confusion and fear rolling through him. Because he needed them.

The roar of noise and movement behind him suddenly coming in clear even if he didn't look back.

He couldn't.

No matter how bad he was shaking. How much he wanted to turn back and run to the safety of Ironhide's field space. No matter how much he wanted to tuck himself behind Optimus leg's and hide like he was a sparkling again. Or how much he wanted Jazz to hold him. Or Ratchet to fix it.

He simply couldn't.

Not with how hard each of them were pushing that shot of War's at him. That one simple instruction that balked everything inside him.

 _Run._

But they couldn't.

He stumbled in the sand again. Spark hammering, breathing tight. Ducking under the grab of some random mech as he bolted forward again. Throwing a glance over his shoulder to find War had somehow managed to fight his way back to his feet.

Several of the chains and ropes that had held him snapped, or caught in his hands. Pitching his weight back up taking almost all the mechs that had brought him to his knees with him. Flinging, crushing, energon flew and screams lit the air. The massive shuttle grasping anything close enough to him.

Ripping into armor, protoform, and anything else while blaster shots rained against his armor. His engines booming with his anger while he fought the last caught lines holding onto him.

"Shot him you fool!" Lockdown's greedy green optics cutting across the sand. Locking on Bumblebee while he sprinted away from the center of the fighting. Through his winglet sensors he caught the buzz of energy behind him. Just managing to duck from the shot Crosshairs leveled at the back of his helm.

That duck put him back on his knees. Forcing him to struggle back up through the thick sand. Pausing in the jarring digging his way back to his feet to look back to find his family still trapped, to Dustoff sagging and tied while bots around him threw more pain his way while War struggled, and Wardrums'—the strongest mech he'd ever seen in his whole life—was slowly being brought back under control. Lockdown standing there in the middle of it glaring through burning green optics.

Smug.

Fear surged with anger. His jaw tightened, his spark hammering, he almost brought himself short to turn back when War snarled again. This time it wasn't out loud though.

 _"I_ told _you to_ run _! Now run, runt!"_

The words came with a harsh burn of emotion through his spark. The burning feeling spurring him back into motion.

So, he ran.

Dodging through blaster shots, anchor lines, and bots. Pulling up every trick Jazz, the twins, and Mia had ever taught him to slip his way out of Lockdown's trap. Hearing the mech shout after him.

"He's just a runty mechling, you fools! Catch him! Shot him!"

However, Bumblebee had the gap he needed. Bright blue optics setting on the hole carved in the sand just a way away. Running with everything he had toward the huge, black Shark tunnel. At the anchor line that was shot down into it.

Shooting through the black opening and taking a running leap. Falling down into the darkness with a quiver in his spark as the shouting faded into murmurs.

* * *

At the surface the bright green painted mech slide to a stop. One hand lifted to clutch at the new hole dug into his armor. The dagger War had miraculously managed to toss laying forgotten in the sand as Crosshairs snorted at the energon dripping down his front.

Beside him two more lackies slide to a stop next to the Shark tunnel. Staring down into the darkness, he ignored them. Focusing instead on shifting through his goggle programs until he found the inferred.

Gaze sweeping through the now cool blue world below him. Narrowing through the tinted lens in search of a small red blob of heat that even if he managed to himself smashed on the rocks below would still radiate heat.

He swept his attention left and right.

Searching while the mechs around him tried to make since of the blackness. They wouldn't be able too, and Lockdown was the master of underestimating that which he thought was below him.

Still, Crosshairs was running out of time.

The others had managed to get Wardrums back under control and Lockdown was fuming.

Then, there!

Snapping his gaze back through the shades of blue temperature scale he found it.

A small blob of red and yellow heat clinging to the face of cliff in the darkness. Standing there, staring down, Crosshairs watched as the blob that was a mechling get a good enough hold to lever himself up. Scrambling as quietly as he could up the smoothed stones and shifting sand.

It took Crosshairs a moment to figure out what the little runt could possibly be planning to do now that he'd trapped himself in a hole there was no way he could get out of on his own. But then, he realized it. That little shape latching hold of the base of one of the anchors that had shot down into the tunnel. He climbed around it. Slipping himself through the support wires until he was tucked safely inside, and likely out of sight.

Standing there watching Crosshairs couldn't help the slight flash of admiration that ran through him.

 _Smart runt._ He scoffed to himself. _But this has barely begun. Stay still, if you know what's good for you._

Rising his rifle he lazily aimed it into the darkness. Shooting off four quick shots far from that little blob of red, but was relieved to see the young mech was still smart enough to duck down. Wedging himself deeper into his hiding place just as Crosshairs hoped he would.

With a loud huff, he turned away. Paying no mind to the several other bots that has clustered around the hole. There was nothing they could see, and it wasn't them that Lockdown was now glaring out.

Standing there in the middle of a finally placed trap looking smug as he ever did, but with anger gleaming in his optics.

Crosshairs was not surprised.

For the two of them were alike in more ways than Crosshairs wanted to admit; his older brother and he.

They both hated to loose.

"Well?" Lockdown snarled, the tell-tell sounds of his own heightened rifle protocols spinning. The enhancement mask tucked away at the moment shifting along his facial plating. If he decided to take his own look there would be nothing Crosshairs could do to save that youngling.

And he wasn't the only one that knew it.

Wardrums struggled as well as he was able against the pulsing drain lines digging into his protoform now. His head hanging and his vents heaving as energon dripped down from his nose. That glare in those fire red optics still burned as bright as it ever did though.

Searing across the space between them in a mix of fury and question. It had been vorns after all. There was no way for the massive shuttle to know if things had changed. If Crosshairs had changed his mind. That, and there was that tiny little detail about the fire fight they got into last time they say each other and the scar that ran across his chest protoform.

Crosshairs scoffed.

"Well, what?" His thick drawl making the words slide. "Little runt jumped down a fraggin' abyss. Ya want to chase after, be meh guest. Ah ain't."

His older sibling snarled. Predictably. His weapons protocols spinning as his fists clenched.

Crosshairs waited.

Mentally figuring.

There was nothing else he could do. Somebot would die, that was the way of it. If Lockdown didn't take what he had hunted and be happy with it. The mechling was never a part of the game. He was a new wrench in the plans that was for sure. Honestly, Crosshairs wasn't sure what to make of him.

Just like his elder brother he'd know what he was looking at when he'd pinned him in the sand. Wardrums had a nephew. A fraggin' nephew. And didn't Deathtoll make that a whole other bag of grenades.

 _Frag._ He mentally cursed. _I did not sign up for this slag._

Honestly, one bastard runt's life did not mean much to him in the grand scheme of things. All it did was complicate his plans. Wardrums had fought for that little life though. That spoke enough of what was going on here.

So the runt needed to live.

Crosshairs realized that when he'd had the pest pinned in the sand. It was why he hesitated. It was why he gave War enough time to think of something. Now, he was going to have to think of something else. At least for the short term. Otherwise all this scheming was for nothing and Crosshairs could kiss his freedom goodbye.

 _Ah ain't got no plans of dyin' for this glitch._ His optics narrowed behind the safety of his goggles. _Not then, not now._

"If the fall don't splat him, the cold will." He shrugged, lazily swinging his rifle while watching his brother. "Ya really want to compromise this score over a runt? What's he worth anyway? Nothin' out there buyin' younglings. Ah mean, unless you want to deal with the harbinger of death himself?"

It was quick. Almost unnoticeable. To anybot that wasn't related to slat grey glitch, it wouldn't have been. However, Crosshairs had been trailing after this arrogant aft-hole his whole life. He knew him better then Lockdown thought, and in that moment, he saw fear.

For powerful predators were near fearless, but even they were wary of stronger predators.

And Deathtoll? He was the monster all other monsters feared.

He was death itself.

Crosshairs hid a smirk.

Letting out a dismissive sound, Lockdown turned away. "If he isn't dead the dessert will do it in a matter of breams. We stick to the plan."

 _Yeah._ Crosshairs thought. _That's what I figured._

Deathtoll . . . that mech was out of their league. Even if the new contract Lockdown had found among the stars was written in glyphs that were no longer supposed to exist. The mech that tore down the Guild and frayed the very fabric of the universe was not something bounty hunters could take on. Lockdown might know where the big dark bastard was, but that didn't mean he was willing to go running to him.

No one _willingly_ went to Deathtoll. For the attention of death was not easily escaped. Not once one was in it.

And death didn't haggle.

It simply took.

The mech that _was_ it was no different.

Lockdown was cruel but he wasn't stupid. Oh no, he was far from stupid. That was the only reason Crosshairs was still stuck beside him doing his dirty work.

Smirking at what was likely the truth had the little mech not been smart enough to latch hold of that anchor, Lockdown strolled through the sand. Swagger ever present as he stopped before Wardrums. Even on his knees with his head hanging the huge mech still towered over Lockdown.

Somehow though, the slate grey mech still managed to look cocky and victorious as he reached up and dug his claws into the underside of Wardrums' jaw. Energon bubbling up under the pressure as he yanked the big mechs jaw around the puncture points.

He managed to yank that massive helm around until those burning fire red optics, no matter how dim they were getting, sliced into his deep green ones.

"I've waited to see you on your knees for a long, _long_ time." Lockdown chuckled.

Wardrums glared.

"Nothing, you said, wasn't it? You wouldn't leak for _nothing_ , War. It's a shame really. Maybe I really do know you better you then you think."

And with that, he shoved him away. Spinning on his heels to wave a hand at all those around him.

"Tag them and bag them. Places to be, bots to see."

As the bounty hunter strolled away back toward the ship, Crosshairs let his goggle covered gaze drift from War to Dust. Finding them both watching him through narrowed optics as the Autobots fought loudly against leaving that little mech behind.

He stared back. Hand flexing around his rifle for a few moment before he scoffed and turned away. Let them hate him. Let them think what they want.

He had a plan.

Well, he _sort_ of had a plan.

It was going to have to be reworked now, but oh well. He'd figure something out.

And the little mech clinging to the inside of an anchor line as it was pulled back into the ship was something he was going to have figure out how to work with. If the little thing was smart enough to jump for the anchor line he was smart enough to sneak onto the ship.

Turning his back to the mechs being rounded up he followed after his brother's back with a smirk hidden in a well learned mask.

 _Well, this should be interesting._

In far more ways than one.

* * *

 **Crosshairs makes his appearance. *bounces* So yeah, I made him Lockdown's brother. How is that for a twist? ^-^ You'll find out why later.**

 **Lockdown's got them all in chains and Bee's clinging to an anchor hanging under his ship. Like Crosshairs said, this should be interesting.**

 **Thank you for reading and reviewing. See you all next chapter.**

 **-Jaycee**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Just the OCs and plot.**

 **Hey, I got a chapter done. Enjoy. ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 21

With a heavy bang and jarring metal bolt thick metal bars slammed into place on a wall of cells down the under belly of Lockdown's ship. Through the pain eating up nearly every bit of Dustoff's conscious thought, the big mech hardly heard it though.

All he could do was collapse to his front where they tossed him. Landing in several different layers of filth he didn't even want to begin to break down the make up of. Even if he had the processing power at the moment to try such a thing. Which he didn't.

All he can do is try and swallow back the pained whine working its way through his chest. Bunching up on the dirty cage floor, trying to pull his heavy, leaking arms around himself. As if that would help the burning ache deep in his center.

Partly—in that long trained medical protocol part of his processor—he's aware what's happening to him. He drained every single reserve he had trying to keep that force field up. Currently, he's in the middle of a full frame shut down. One that might be permeant if he doesn't get to slowing down his panic systems.

He needs help.

He knows that all too well.

There isn't currently enough fine motor control in his whole damn frame for him to so much as try and patch the streams of energon racing down his frame.

It won't be the leaking that kills him though.

It will be the steadily slowly beat of his rung out spark.

In the back of his mind, he registered more doors slamming. The Autobots being thrown about—somewhere in there twins must have come to because he could hear their echoed snarling—but all that paled to the noise Wardrums was making.

He could feel it.

Dust knew that.

He didn't want him to, but filtering the pain his spark was festering it was beyond his reach at this point. So War had a front row seat to Dust's spark slowly growing dimmer. To the burn slicing through his insides as his frame slowly shut down piece after piece of what kept him alive.

Dust had always known to most the pair he and War made didn't make a lot of sense. They were as different as morning and night. They always had been. However, for the entirety of very long lives they had balanced each other out. Held each other up.

One no longer knew how to be one without the other. As what sparkmates were supposed to be. They were a part of each other, and though War never showed it as most thought he should, he loved his mate very much.

Above all else, War loved Dustoff. And for Dust he had done some both horrible and wonderful things.

Right now, he was on the verge of obliterating Lockdown's personal to nothing for they were standing between him and Dust sprawled out on a cage floor dying. Not because he was being chained with EMP locks in a cage across the hall. Not because Lockdown had been about to kill his nephew. Not because said nephew was currently likely alone in the sand somewhere now because the ship took off. Not because they were locked up on this damn glitches ship.

No.

Because he was desperately reaching through their bond and couldn't feel his mate besides the pain he was in. Because Dustoff was rapidly spinning out of his reach. And because he couldn't get to him, peal back plating, and share spark energy until the other evened out.

If Dust was breathing later they were going to have to have a serious conversation on the importance of other things beside him. You know, like the survival of their entire race on the shoulders of a mechling that was now not here. That was a little more important in Dust's opinion then his own stupid decisions.

If he was still breathing.

Claws digging deep into the filth around him, the large flier tried to work his knees under him. It worked about as well as he figured it would. Considering he went nowhere.

If he could feel more then this gaping pain in the bottom of his chest he would be so fraggin' annoyed right now.

 _Breathe._ He hissed to himself. _Calm down._

Easy to say, less easy to do.

Optics squeezed shut, he tried to tune out War's snarling and the harsh tugs across the bond. He needed to calm down. He needed to think. He need to stop the creep of shock through his systems.

If he let them shut down, they'd likely never turn back on.

Then, like a buzz in the back of his helm, he heard the twins snarling.

Rather close actually.

Twisting in his sprawl he forced open one optic. Blinking through the dull, dim light of the ships loud underbelly. Flashes of lights and movements too fast to follow were all he could process of War shredding anything that got close to him.

Lockdown's for some reason loyal even in the face of an angry ancient shuttle staff had managed to get the massive mech into his own cell. Pulsing cords of draining chains and EMP ropes the only way they were managing it. Yet still War them hard enough to get somebot near him and they were dead.

Still, they kept at it.

Groaning, Dust tried to roll. If he could get his arms under him he might be able to get up. Or at least cover some of the long tears leaking in his arms. That would slow down some of the shock.

A flash of red and yellow in the corner of his one open optic pulled what little focus he had.

Ratchet.

The Autobot medic was pressed against the bars separating the two cages.

Huh.

They shoved the medic in with the terror twins. Well, that or the medic hadn't let go of them after they moved the out of it mechs. Dust was more willing to bet on that one. But the twins were up now.

A little wobbly from the EMP, but up. Up and snarling, slashing through the shut bars that were between them and the bots still trying to wrangle War. All the others were already locked in cages, but were making enough noise that Dust knew they were alive.

He was the only one currently fighting to keep his vents going, and from the look in those deep blue optics staring back at him from the other medic it was clear Ratchet knew that too.

Remarkably, Dustoff found panic in that gaze. Fear.

Fear of what, he couldn't be sure. Maybe it had something to do with the medic felt he owed him for holding that field that long around Bumblebee. Maybe it had something to do with the pair of brothers he had claimed as sons. Maybe it was a little bit of both. For Dustoff had leaked to keep both alive as well. Right now, it mattered very little though.

Dust's vison was clouding and he had a bit more to worry about then a medic with a guilt complex. The sounds coming out Wardrums clenched in his spark just as the screaming of mechs that had no real need to die, but followed Lockdown's orders anyway.

War would feel no remorse for them, just as Lockdown wouldn't.

Dust did though.

He always did.

Another crash, though this was coming from where the twins were, and then over the snarling of a voice.

"What use is all of this if they both die!?"

Dustoff was doing his best to focus, but through the ringing starting up in his audios he couldn't tell much besides that was Ratchet. Ratchet yelling at . . . Lockdown?

What the pit was that young medic doing?

At the end of the hall, Lockdown turned. Slate grey armor dyed an eerie red in the flashing glow of ship hold lights. His burning green optics glowing through the dim to land on the Autobot medic shoving the two snarling abominations behind him. Turning his gaze from where Wardrums had fallen to his knees in his cage. Finally allowing some of Lockdown's obviously overpaid staff to chain him down like that. He had yet to stop making such an awful racket, but the energon suddenly leaking down his lips from his noseplate was new.

Green optics cut back across to take in Dustoff sprawled across the floor of his cage.

Huh.

Maybe the old mech wasn't acting after all.

Lockdown huffed, looking away from the seizing that had started in parts of Dustoff's frame. Pinning his gaze on the yellow and red medic glaring at him around a tight grip on the bars.

"He's _dying_!" Ratchet bit, mentally cataloging nanos and choices the longer it took him to make this damn bounty hunter listen. "And what do you think is going to happen to your damn prize when he does!?"

Throwing his hand out to where Wardrums had collapsed to his knees, snarling and shouting cut off into a terrified silence of strangled chokes. Energon streaming down from his nose as shock started creeping into his veins. He was loosing his grip on Dustoff's half of the bond. The binds between them slowly starting to unwind the deeper Dustoff sank into shock.

Lockdown scoffed, turning away and heading for the bridge. Chuckling to himself at the thought that the end of the mighty Wardrums could come from something as simple as a foolish mate and a bastard youngling of his greatest enemy. Really, it was almost poetic. "You make it sound like I care."

The strangled sound Ratchet made was amusing as well, but Crosshair's hand shooting out to latch hold of his elbow was less so.

Emerald fire optics narrowed into thin slits as they cut back to find the slightly smaller form of his obnoxity painted brother there behind him.

"Let go of me!" Snarling, he retched his arm out of the other's hold, but Crosshairs simply scoffed at him. Making that I-know-better-then-you face once again that Lockdown so often wanted to beat off of him.

"The medic is right." Crosshairs shrugged, those infuriating goggles still in place. "What was the damn point of loosing half our crew just to let the two of them die from spark shock? Ya won't get paid for a corpse, Lockdown. The bounty said _alive_."

Snarling, Lockdown swung his claws. The resulting spray of energon, Crosshairs stumbling back, and a whole cell block full of workers going very still left nothing but the sound of Lockdown's growling engine. The green mech before him slowly turning his helm back to show the stripes of glittering blue arching up the right side of his faceplate. Knocking his goggles halfway off so that the pale blue pools behind them could sparkle with anger.

Lockdown scoffed at them. Lifting his claws again to latch hold of Crosshair's front. Digging in and yanking him closer so that he could spit though clenched teeth. "Don't. Ever. Question. Me. Again."

And with that, he shoved him away. Watching with satisfaction as the smaller mech stumbled back. Helm lowering and optics darting away as the slate grey mech kept growling. Then, twisting on his heels, he made to stalk away only to growl over his shoulder as he made it to the stairs.

"Put the Autobot medic in with Dustoff. If he manages to save him all the more profit, if he fails, well, the wolves and hounds are mighty hungry."

Cackling and ped steps on thin metal stairs was all the sound that followed. An eerie silence broken only by Wardrums' choked coughing following until Crosshairs drew in a long breath. Shaking his helm hard, slinging energon as he did, he turned his attention back down the cell block.

Blue optics now visible that his goggles had been knocked askew, he locked them on that yellow and red form. Ignoring the twins growling on both side of him, Wardrums' coughing, and how quiet Dustoff had gotten. Instead, he just stared. Gaze sweeping up and down as he notched his mental tallies.

This was so far off his original plan that to say he was grasping at straws was an understatement. He needed War and Dust alive. If they died, he might as well kiss his freedom good bye. There was nothing he could do to directly help them though.

Lockdown would shoot him so fast in the back his head was spin.

So yeah, that was out.

The only option he had was this damn Autobot medic. Looking back at him with disgust and hope.

Pit.

If only he knew.

"Move him." Crosshairs rumbled to the staff War hadn't managed to kill yet—and weren't they really going to have to restock ranks when they stopped at the next colony, that was going to be annoying. Surprise, or something like it, flashed across the medic's broad faceplate as several lackies scrambled to obey.

The twins snarled, blades sprung and fists flexing as the bots approached the doors. And smartly—at least they had that going for them—the crew hesitated. Looking back at Crosshairs for orders. The chances those two would stand back and let the medic be moved was very slim after all.

Crosshairs smirked a truly dangerous grin as he drawled. "Tick, tock, mech. By all means, slow them down. Dust dies, War goes with him, and mah brother loses more credits then ya could ever dream of. Then ya friend there gets to be dog food. Which way ya want it?"

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker _snarled_.

Engines rumbling to match the pitch of their vocal processors. Then, as suddenly as they dared the sound, Ratchet reached between them. A hand closing around an arm each, tugging them back. The angry sounds cut off with almost a confused choke. Both larger mechs twisting down to blink confused optics at the medic that adopted them.

Ratchet glanced between both of them. Trying to ignore the fear flickering in their fields as he gave them a reassuring nod and pushed them toward the back of the cell. Sides drug his feet. Head shaking slightly even while Sunstreaker narrowed his optics but backed up a few steps.

For as much as they owed Dustoff, as much as they cared about him, Ratchet ranked above him. A part of them hated themselves for that, but it was true.

Ratchet's smile turned a little sad at the look in Sides' optics, but with a firm shove he pushed him away again. Staring hard at them until they both backed further into the cell. Neither looking happy about it, but staying where they were when the cell door cracked enough for Ratchet to slip out.

Like any mech with a sense of self-preservation in all this, as soon as Ratchet stepped beyond the cage bars—closed quickly behind him—his hands lifted above his head. Optics watchful to the prodding electric points pushing him along.

He paid little mind to the green and black mech standing there at the end of the hall watching him still. He hardly spared Wardrums a glance as the choking mech watched him through hazy optics from his place on his knees.

The door to Dustoff's cell sprang open and Ratchet was in with a blink. Paying no mind as the bars slammed shut behind him, and the crew of the bounty hunter filed away. He paid no mind to the green mech standing there a while longer. Watching him through curious optics as he hit his knees besides the massive helicopter mech. Quickly slipping into the familiar haze of medical protocols and tasks that needed done.

He could save him, he knew he could, now that he had the chance.

He'd bet his life on it.

He was.

* * *

It took three breams.

Three nerve racking breams. In which a billions thoughts raced through the back of his mind. None of which he paid all that much attention too. Not besides the rolling stream of steps he knew like the back of his hand. Protocols that demanded this action, followed by that, and then this.

He didn't have time to think.

Not _truly_ think at least.

Between the energon staining his arms up to his elbows where he pealed back plating and dug into damaged systems, the wheezed breathing from a mech he didn't have the tools to sedate, and the chocked coughing of another, his own internal clock too quickly ticking down how few nanos he had left to get a hand on that stuttering shock.

He managed it though.

Slumped there on his aft with his knees pulled up and his sticky arms draped over them, he listened with an apricated audio to the sound of Dustoff's vents evening out. The massive mech slumped there against the wall beside him. Long limbs sprawled out around him with hasty welds and half patches. It was the now closed spark chamber that beat steadily again that was the testament to the miracle Ratchet had more or less just pulled off.

That, and Wardrums lazily pulling at the pulsing energy chains currently keeping him on his knees. His breaths had evened out as well, but were harder for Ratchet to hear over the still slight wheeze in Dustoff's as the big helicopter mech slumped next to him.

Arms crossed loosely around his middle, Dust slumped there beside him, simply breathing for a long while as Ratchet slowed his racing protocols and processor.

"Thank you." The huge flier breathed, voice still slightly catching as he turned his head slowly to stare down at the smaller medic slumped there beside him.

Ratchet gave a gruff huff. Not lifting his helm from its tired hand between his elbows. "Yeah, whatever."

Dust chuckled, head leaning back to thunk against the wall behind him. A heavy sigh leaving him as those pale red optics blinked across his cage. Finding the knelt down form slumped in the cage across from him.

The deep, dark glow of Wardrums' red optics shining back at him. Something between an apology and a swear brewing there in those dark depths. Both of them were a little more then rattled at the moment, poking and prodding at their bond. Repairing as much as they could of what had frayed from a distance. It would take a merge to truly fix all of it, but at the moment that was a little beyond their reach.

So they breathed, feeling the other down the bond. Breathing, resting, planning.

For they both knew they'd be dead if Crosshairs hadn't spoken up. If he hadn't took Lockdown's temper. And they both knew the mechling was still alive, for the big black adopted sire slumped in a cell next to the knelt shuttle was not having a fit. That was also because of Crosshairs.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

There were really only two questions left at this point.

One, how were they going to get off this ship because Lockdown broke atmosphere?

Two, where the pit was the little yellow mechling?

Dustoff wasn't sure, but he figured they'd be finding out rather soon. Until then, he was content to breathe while he had the chance. Lockdown would likely be back to gloat, or at least see if War and him were still alive.

Because now, they were going to see just how clever that young spark was. And just _what_ he truly was hiding within him.

* * *

After the anchor lines had been yanked back into the ship sometime ago, Bumblebee stayed huddled in his dark, cold hiding place. Backed against the prickly steel cording drawing into a pully system at the base of the ship, he huddled. Shivering and doing his best to keep it quiet.

Stretching out with his spark in an attempt to keep up with the mechs being moved through the ship. Optics squeezed shut he danced a rope line of keeping his half of the bond closed up—though not enough to scare them about his state of still breathing—incase his looking tripped some kind of sensor in the belly of the ship.

Jazz had told him once that somebots kept spark radars throughout their ship to catch stowaways. Chances were this Lockdown mech had at least some. Without a spark dampener he was a sitting target if he was careless about tracking.

That was partly why time passed him so quickly. Sitting there in his little hole while he tracked mentally through different layers of the ship. Unable to _see_ anything about what lay between him and his family now. However, he was more than able to see they were all alive and bunched together in the same place.

His connection with Dustoff and Wardrums was no where near as strong as the others, but he could tell something was wrong with them. Something that shook him down to his core. That left him clutching at his chest, breathing ragged for a long time. Shock making him unable to move as his spark wound itself up in the _fear, panic, hurt, agony, severing_ that was going on between the grasping ends of the two massive mechs' bond.

Shaking with optics blown wide in the dark until slowly, the pain eased and the panicked connection evened out. Until with a whooshing breath the vice locked around his chest eased. Shaking out of him in a wheeze of his vents that left him slumped there against the pully housing.

Optics squeezing shut again as he reached out. Carefully poking around the edges of bonds to reassure himself that Dust and War were still there.

He . . . he didn't even want to begin to think about what he'd do without them now.

Once he was sure they were all alight—pissed about being in cages and hesitantly calling at him through links that he wouldn't answer—he let his head thunk back against the casing behind him. Optics opening in oppressing darkness as he tried to take stock of just what the pit they were supposed to do now.

"Well," He whispered to himself, mindful of how his voice seemed to want to bounce around the vast emptiness around him. "First thing first, figure out where they are. Then where this mech wants to take us."

From what he could tell—being raised on ships and all—this massive armed freighter hadn't done much but tuck itself back up into the thick clouds since it lifted off the ground. Bee wasn't a ship mechanic. He didn't know anywhere near as much about them as Jazz or the twins, but even he could tell they weren't moving yet.

A ship this big, it took a lot to get it going. Especially, to get it to break atmosphere. It would take time to charge whatever kind of drives were keeping it airborne. If it didn't, he had no doubt they would be gone already.

So Bee had time.

Not a lot, granted, but maybe enough.

Enough to think of something.

To _do_ something.

Just as soon as he made himself get out of this hole he was hiding in.

Antennas pinned down in their grooves, doorwings and winglets plastered down behind him, Bee slowly pushed himself up. Slowly, carefully, peaking over the edge of his hiding place. Bright blue optics glowing neon in the inky blackness around him.

Well, nothing jumped out and bit him.

So . . . yeah . . . doing pretty good here.

 _Now get out of the hole._ He told himself. _Calm down and get moving. We're on a clock here._

It was true, the emotions and pain he'd picked up on had rattled him. Left him spinning in feelings that weren't his for longer then he had to waste here. He should have been moving a bream ago. He should have known better then to get lost in those feelings.

He should be able to shake them off and get to work.

It was hard though.

Fingers still shaking slightly and spark tight in his chest, he wavered there in the dark. Scared, confused, not knowing where to go or what to do.

This . . . this wasn't how his was supposed to go.

None of it.

He'd never planned on finding Dust and War. He'd never planned on them getting attacked by some crazy bounty hunter. This was only ever supposed to be a field trip through the desert to prove to them all he wasn't a sparkling.

That he could do what they didn't think he could.

 _Then prove it._

Jaw tightening, he scampered up.

Optics shifting ranges until he got as close to night vision as he had. He didn't have quite all the mods Jazz wanted for him yet, but he had good enough that he could carefully pick his way through the darkness around all the anchor pullies and trenches.

Slipping around dangling wires, stepping over creaking planks, and toeing his way on along the cold ship belly until he finally found a door.

Okay, so it wasn't so much of a door as it was a gaping hole with a broken staircase about half his frame height over his head.

Yeah . . . fun.

"Didn't any mech ever tell this mech to take care of his ship?" Grumbling to himself, Bee took a running start, nearly fell on his face, managed to catch a cable and haul himself up.

Then, he went to sneaking.

The lower levels of the ship were both as big and as empty as Bee expected, at least for a little while. He crept his way through boiler rooms, around engine bays, and up narrow work walks for what felt like far too long.

Ducking into alcoves and flinging himself under pipes when ever the sound of foot step or talking came near.

Several times he almost stumbled into workers down among the ship's inner mechanisms, but his size made it pretty easy to silently panic before diving for cover.

And so, one he went. Quietly climbing stairs, and slipping around corners until he finally reached the main center of the ship's belly. What he found there, drew him to a stumbling halt.

Rows upon rows of cages. Seemingly endless through the _miles_ that stretched down the ships belly. Above him, he knew there had to be at least a few more floors just like it too. If those support beams overhead were anything to go by.

Optics blown wide, he sat there. Hunkered in a corner by the stairs he had climbed. Blinking at the cages upon cages. Then, a flicker of movement caught his attention.

Pushing himself up over the railing he was hiding behind, he bent. Trying to see down further along the seemingly endless stretches of empty cells.

Another flash of movement.

Curiosity flaring through his chest, he jumped the rail and headed for the stairs. He could tell already whatever was down there in that cell near the end of his line of sight wasn't his family. The tugging at his spark was coming from further up the ship, but there was something else tugging from that direction.

A heavy, old presence that hung in the dank air like a fog. Filtering to his spark and sticking to his focus like hive hawk wax. Drawing him down the creaking rails almost without his conscious thought behind the steps.

Half his spark hissing at him that he needed to go find Ironhide. That he needed to be getting them all out of here. While the other half pulled toward that fog. Curious as to what it was.

And why it felt like he should know what it was.

Steps pinging softly on the cold metal walk way as he made his way deeper down into the dripping cage rows. Slipping through hanging cabling and broken pipes as he crept. Checking over his shoulder, mindful what was around him.

Wary that any nano something was going to turn a corner.

Nothing came though.

Lockdown's ship—as massive as it was—was remarkably lightly staffed. It was a question of why that poked at the back of Bee's mind, but he didn't have much time to worry about it either.

That, and he was a little too distracted by the fog feeling tugging at his spark. Dragging him deeper down the cell block until he found himself outside the softly humming energy bars blocking the inky black cage on the other side.

Once there, he blinked.

Shaking himself as the heavy fog thickened around his spark only to shift. His conscious shoving it down now that he realized how thick it was making his processor. Rational thought sliding back in leaving him feeling a little dizzy and confused as to why he was standing down there blinking into a dark empty cage.

Huh.

Another hard shake of his head.

"What are you doing, Bee?" He mumbled to himself. He needed to be finding Hide, he needed to be finding a way out.

Turning, he made to head back up the stairs had had been on when a heavy shift banged through the darkness of the huge cell.

Startled, he leaped back. Optics widening as they shot into the heavy darkness just in time to watch two huge golden yellow optics flash open. Far larger then any he had ever seen before. As long and as wide as his arms. Split down the middle by a thinner black correlation of inner depth filers.

For a nano, he couldn't breathe.

Breath caught in his throat under that strut chilling stare that sank into his spark. Then, they blinked, and the spell shattered.

Bumblebee scrambling back with a squeak, nearly falling on his aft as he tripped back over a fall cluster of pipes and metal. Still, he couldn't take his optics off the huge shape behind those optics as it moved.

A shape that made Wardrums and Grimlock seem rather short as he moved a head the size of Optimus toward the pulsing bars. The inky black of the shape only becoming lit when the pulsing light of the energy bars lit back against deep red and black armor.

Those massive golden yellow optics held in that huge head. Long, sharp, with curling silver horns stretching back behind it and mandible like silver jaws that parted to show long, sharp grey fangs. The leathery flap of hardened protoform wings folded down that long, lean, shape and a long jaggedly spiked tail that swished back and forth behind it.

"Dragon."

He didn't mean for the whisper to get out, but he did. Hardly a breath really but it made those golden optics with that narrow black line through them thin in angry slits. A low, thunder shaking growl echoing through the very floor beneath them. Those fang filled jaws parting with a spark of glowing fire behind them only for a pulsing chain wrapped tight around the huge creature's neck.

A pained hiss suddenly left it. The whole massive frame shaking as it tossed its frame against the hissing of the pulsing chained collar wrapped around it.

As it shook against that collar, Bee noticed clamps on its massive wings, wrapped around its tail, and holding its huge clawed feet to the floor.

Standing there blinking, not sure what else to do, Bee watched it. Watched it growl and hiss in pain against the hissing, burning chains and EMPs holding it in place. Until finally slumped back to the floor where it had been laying.

A pained whine echoing through it as its massive head crashed back to the floor. Those burning golden yellow optics slipping shut with the tired, wheezing vents moving its massive frame. Unsure what to do, Bee stood there. Watching it breathe for a little while longer before he finally took a step back.

Then another, shaking more than he was willing to admit as he took another. Then he was running, desperate to leave that think fog feeling in his chest behind.

Up stairs, around halls, and around pips until he slumped into another alcove many floors up trying to get his breathing back under control.

What . . . what was that?

He didn't have the slightest clue.

A . . . _dragon_?

A real dragon? There . . . there were some of those left?

The memory of Dust's story of Wardrums' gestalt brothers pulled at the back of his mind, but he dismissed it. That creature down there hadn't felt like many lives linked into one. That was one spark all on its own.

One very old, very powerful one.

A shiver worked through Bee's quivering form as he tried to shake off the lingering fog of too much emotion. Too powerful a presence for him to know what to do with.

He'd thought he'd found something knew in the Dinobots' sparks once. Just as recently he had in Wardrums and Dustoff. But that creature down there, was different at the same time.

Enough that he had to shake off the building questions. He didn't have time for monsters Lockdown had chained up in his basement. He was running out of time.

Tightening his jaw, he shoved himself out of his hiding place and went back to sneaking.

He almost walked into several more workers the further he climbed up the ship. Seven to be exact, which lead the rational thought that there was far much more to be careful about now that he was getting into the populated part of the ship.

Halfway through a cell block trailing the feeling of Hide and Optimus, Bumblebee stopped short. The thought registering that he didn't yet have any fraggin' idea what to do even when he did get to the cell blocks they were in.

None at all.

What good was it going to do to pop up in front of them and freak Hide out about him wondering around this ship while they were stuck in cages. It wasn't like Lockdown was just going to have left the keys laying around.

Nothing in Bee's life was that easy.

No.

No, he had to come up with a plan.

 _Something_ that could get them off this ship before those warming drive he could hear softly humming in the bottom of the ship got charged for the jump they were likely to make.

If they left the planet, Bee knew just how slim the chances of them getting back where. There would be no help coming for them in space. Magnus, Roddy, and Prowl wouldn't have the slightest idea how to find them.

They might never come home.

No.

Bee wouldn't allow it.

They were going home. They were _all_ going home.

He'd be damned if they didn't.

Turning away from the way to the cage blocks, Bee made his way higher through the quiet, back halls and stair ways curling through the innerworkings of Lockdown's ship. Picking his way past workers milling about the ship as he snuck his way further and higher into the ship.

Searching for something he was not quite sure what was just yet, but knowing he'd know it when he would find it. Because there had to be something. There _had_ to be something that would work. Something that would help.

And then, quite literally, Bumblebee tripped over the answer and fell through the doorway.

The squeaky yelp that left him made far too much noise and yet, when he slowly pushed himself back up from his face plant on the cold, dirty floor, there was nothing. Well, nothing in the degree of bots. There was actually lots of other. Shoving himself up on his elbows he looked around to find himself glancing around at a room full of computer monitors.

 _The_ computer monitors. The ones that filtered, sorted, and streamed feed from _every_ camera in the whole ship. His optics shot left, down the row of monitors to find a radio monitor. They shot right, rows and rows of keyboards with glyphs in languages he had never seen.

Hesitantly, gaze glancing around to make sure he was as alone as he seemed, Bee carefully pushed himself up. Checking over his shoulder as he slowly slipped the rest of the way into the room.

The door—which had for some reason been open—stayed that way. There was no hissing of hydraulic locks that wanted to close and couldn't. There wasn't even a real key pad lock.

A control room that couldn't be shut.

Damn.

Not that Bee didn't see the upsides for a captain but for somebot trying to keep a ship from taking off.

Yeah . . . this wasn't going to be simple.

He had no way to block himself in, or barricade himself against anything else.

"Have to be quick and quiet then." He whispered. There was no telling when whoever worked here would be back. If he was lucky—and them very unlucky—Wardrums had done enough damage to Lockdown's crew that he was short handed enough he wasn't worried about checking cameras in the cargo bays. It at least seemed to be that way at the moment.

Bumblebee could work with that.

He was gonna have to be fast though.

Tip-toeing forward he made his way to the center monitor stand. A circular divot in the floor that was surrounded by a 180 degree span of projection screen monitors. The keyboards that controlled them—that for the life of him Bee couldn't read—were over to one side while an old radio transmitter sat on the other. Stopping in the middle of the stacked screens the young yellow mech tracked through them. Empty hall, workers in hall, the a few stacked near each other that made a very detailed picture of the engine rooms.

"Dark matter drives." He mumbled, a bit of understanding flashing through him as he narrowed his optics at the pulsing engines currently being worked on by several pairs of mechs. "No wonder its taking a while to get this thing back up and going."

Dark matter was the fastest warp drives there was, but it came at a price. Those kinds of drives weren't made for atmosphere. They were too hot, burning too harshly in methane, nitrogen, and oxygen when the gases were sucked into them. Because of this—since most atmospheres had those gases—the drives were at a constant risk of blowing up when exposed to them too long.

It meant they had to be filtered after they were use on planet. Filtered, cleaned, checked, and then booted back up. Slowly climbing back through the gas rich atmosphere instead of just rocketing out of it like most other ships could do.

It was a trade off.

Nothing could out run dark matter warps once they got going in open space, but one planet those engines were a handicap. For a mech that did more business in the stars then on planets it was a logical choice, but right now it might just cost Lockdown his prizes.

Because standing there, gaze flickering back and forth between the screens, Bee got an idea.

A crazy one granted, but one that might just work.

That is, if he remembered anything about Outrider's morse code lessons. A step to the side, and he was falling down into a spinning chair before the old system. Quickly going about flipping switches and pulling on a set of audio covers. Through the old squishy old sensors he caught the faint underlay of static drifting through air and space.

A smirk curled up his lips and he snatched the transmitter closer to him. There was hardly a fools chance that Lockdown would be paying attention to morse code transmission pinging around his ship.

Pure radio signals?

Yeah, he'd be and idiot if he wasn't watching those, but the reason Outrider had taught Bee the pinging glyphs was because hardly anybot paid any attention to them anymore. They were outdated and over complicated.

Audios were hard wired to make sense of pings and dings—it came from sparklings—but over time bots thought themselves above it. That it was a youngling's game of communication and nothing to be bothered with by grown bots.

Outrider had grinned when he told this, sitting sprawled back in a chair in his, Hammer's, and Smokey's room. Grinned that smile that made mischief spark in Bee's chest and made him listen harder. For it was one of the scouts' hard learned lessons that had kept them alive. One they offered Bee because they knew sometime along the way his curiosity and desperate wish to see something beside a dying world meant he would be in need of it.

Right now, he was thanking them with everything inside of him. All while he was also praying with every fiber of his being that they weren't too far out yet. Because while a pinged message to Magnus and Prowl would be closer and easier to send, the chances that they would pay enough attention to it in time were slim. Red Alert might pick it up, but by the time he convinced somebot else to listen to his rambling it might be too late.

No.

It was Rider, Smokey, and Hammer that were his best shot at help at this point. Help he was going have to stall to give a chance to get here.

One more quick glance behind him and a stretch of his senses to make sure he wasn't going to get any unexpected guests, Bee bent to task.

Pulling up every memory he could think of for the language of pings, dings, and dashes and went to work. Twisting dials and satellite wires to point up and out near the direction he was pretty sure the scouts had left for this time. He bent over the transmitter and went to tapping.

Simple, clear, and fast.

 **:: Rider. Help. Bee.::**

It didn't have to be much. It just had to be enough to get his attention. So he typed it. Over and over and over again. A ping, a ding, and another ping. Again and again.

Klicks ticking by as a nervous oil sweat broke out over his frame. Checking behind him ever time he sent the message. Glancing the other way to take in all the camera monitors. Watching workers walk halls. Watching Lockdown stand on the bridge. Watching that green mech that had pointed a gun at him then let him up standing near the aft of the shit near a massive panel of windows staring out at the cloudy sky around them. Watching his family pace and snarl in their cages. Watching the large rooms near the back of the ship full of rows and rows of static hounds and wire wolves.

His scrambled together plan clicking more and more into place the longer he watched. Then, just when he was about to give up this desperate attempt for help and try to make do with his idea on his own.

Until a crackle of static through the audios over his own paused him as he made to stand up. A whisper really, far and almost out of range, but _there_.

 **:: Pip Squeak?::**

He almost broke down into sobs. A happy, scared whine leaving him as he tossed himself back into the chair. Hands shaking against the sudden wave of scared relief that crashed over him under the presence of _help._ Suddenly, he wasn't alone and his spark unclenched from the tight ball in his chest.

 **::Yes!::** He pinged rapidly back.

He knew that time and distance were quite different in space but the nearly immediate response coming in much clearer this time.

 **::What the pit you doing Pip Squeak?::**

Huh.

Well, how was he supposed to explain that quick enough?

 **::Help.::** He pinged. **::Caught by Lockdown. Hide and others caged. With Wardrums and Dustoff. I have a sort of plan, but I'm gonna need help.::**

The response came almost before he finished it.

 **::What the pit you mean caught by Lockdown with Wardrums and Dustoff!?::**

Oh yeah.

He sorta forgot.

Hide and Optimus talked like Outrider and Smokescreen knew them. Dustoff mentioned it. He was pretty sure at least.

 **::What said.::**

 **::Where are you? Where are Magnus and Prowl?::**

Glancing around Bee fluttered his doorwings uneasily. He didn't really know where in the desert they were, but he couldn't imagine it would be too hard to find once one knew to scan for a ship on radar.

 **::Near middle of Rust Sea, not far from Mercury Sea, I think. I can't reach Magnus and Prowl without getting caught. I thought code might go unnoticed. So called you. Can you help?::**

The silence that stretched between that answer was near maddening until finally another ping came.

 **::We're on the way. It'll take three breams for us to get back. Have you got that long, or is he launching?::**

Bee shot a glance back at the screens that showed the engine room and the bridge.

 **::I can stall.::** He shot back, nodding firmly as he typed it. Because he could. He _would._ He'd have to. And . . . who knew, maybe it would even work.

 **::Pip Squeak::** It was kind funny how pings on a code graph could sound disapproving.

 **::Don't have another choice.::** Bee admitted, watching the warp drive workers.

It took a few moments for Outrider to answer but eventually he sent back.

 **::Be careful, Pip Squeak. We'll be there soon.::**

 **::Okay. Gotta go. Hear something.::**

Shoving the sensors off, he spun the chair back where he had found it, took one last look at all the monitors to take in as much as he could, and then bolted for the door. Slipping back down the dim hall and tossing himself behind a cluster of broken pipes and dangling cabling as a random purple mech came around the corner heading for the monitor room.

He stayed hunkered down in his hiding place for a few more klicks after he was gone, before carefully picking his way out and heading down back toward the engine rooms.

He had to stall and he had an idea. If he was lucky, and Lockdown was a as egotistical as Bee was betting, it just might work.

* * *

 **And he's back to crazy plans. I wonder how this one is going to go. ^-^ I hope you all liked it. I'm looking forward to what you thought.**

 **See you next chapter!**

 **-Jaycee**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 22

Saying Bumblebee has had a lot of, well, rather stupid ideas in his time is not anything but an understatement.

There were plenty of examples of said concept too. Many more then Bee would like to sit down and add all up, that's for sure. Currently, a few were running through his mind though.

You know, because he obviously needed a reminder of how stupid he could be at times.

Like now.

There was that time after he had just gotten his doorwings when he decided that they worked the same as flier's wings and threw himself off Prowl's filing cabinet. Then that time after he got his alt mode he decided it was a good idea to steal Wheeljack's current play project and point it at Sunstreaker. Then that time right after that when he decided _not_ running from a dripping in lime green goo covered Sunstreaker was a good idea. Also that time real recently when he decided sneaking off the ship and getting hopelessly lost in the desert to prove he wasn't helpless was a good idea.

Yeah . . . all those.

Great proof of his skills at troubleshooting and problem solving right there.

This current plan though—the one where he was sneaking not away from Lockdown, but towards him—made all the others look like they were running in slow motion down the slope of bad decisions. Because _this_ one was completely _insane_.

And it might just work.

Maybe.

If Bee played his cards right. And he got ridiculously lucky.

He was playing a dangerous game. He knew it, but the only way he knew how to steal enough time for Rider, Hammer, and Smokey to get here was to . . . well through a giant wrench in those slowly cycling engines floors below his feet.

He could hear them now, hunkered down beside a locked doorway on one of this gross ship's upper levels. The slowly building pulses of drives that had now slowed down to normal speeds. They had cooled from the astrosphere burn of before.

That meant they could heat back up.

He was running out of time.

Enough so that he didn't dare to try and sneak his way back down to the drives and try to through said giant wrench into anything. You know, if he didn't get caught and shot on the way there.

After looking through those security monitors Bee wasn't too sure he could pull that off.

So, instead, he was picking a door lock.

"Okay," He whispered to himself, trying to ignore the frantic beating of his spark in his audios. "You can do this. You know how to do this. Jazz has showed you a thousand times. It's easy."

Carefully prying at the paneling near the bottom of the lock, Bee slipped his fingers along the lifted edge. Looking for a catch of wiring he was praying would be there. Jazz said that almost all standard locks had it. That safety feature most didn't think could be a weakness. A simple kill switch programmed within to protect the ship in case of fire.

The same switch that trigger blast doors.

The one that could be inverted with the right amount of tweaking to open and close on a processor keying command.

Fingers blindly searching on the other side of the pried panel, Bee glanced over his shoulder. Checking the dark, damp, creaking halls behind him. Breathing just a bit easier when he reached out with his spark and still couldn't feel anybot coming toward him.

Suddenly, his fingers stumbled over a bundle of harder, courser wires and his optics lit up.

 _There!_

Throwing his attention forward once more, he crouched down lower. Yanking harder, hoping the crunch of weak metal that followed wasn't as loud as he thought it was, he had a handful of ugly grey wires and an access point.

He grinned. "Hello you beautiful thing you."

Pulling it down further, he scooted as close to the wall as he could manage. Another quick look. Bright blue optics darting around the dripping dark corners looking for spooks that might or might not be there. Then, with a deep breath, he looked back to the cluster of wires in his hand while darting the other hand down to a sensitive, hidden panel just under the right side of his chest.

Pressing his slightly shaking hands hard enough the softer panel, he rerouted the errors and pop ups that argued the actions. Dismissing the warnings and slamming shut the safety protocols until the panel popped despite all the things in his frame telling it not too.

Folding away with a pressuring hiss his syncing hardware was bared.

He shivered against the feeling of the cold, wet air rushing at protoform and equipment that had never been exposed outside Ratchet's medical bay and Jazz's office lessons before. He was old enough now that the hardware and software functioned, but he'd never used it in a real situation before.

The fear curling in the bottom of his tanks, beating with the pulse of his spark, made the glaring weakness of the exposed cabling feel _wrong_. Jazz had told him it would though. All those lessons sitting quietly next to the silver mech, listening and soaking in all that he could. Jazz told him using syncing equipment for the purpose Jazz has mastered went against a frames natural reactions.

The hardware wasn't designed for the purpose their race had turned it into. Form an evolutionary point of view it was designed for medical purpose. For personal relationships. A direct line to a processor, with all the dangers that came with such a thing if not handled correctly.

It was not made to hack into systems, both sentient and not. To rip, and tear, and strip. To be turned into a weapon by a mind quick and clever enough to not get yanked apart in the processes. But it left traces of harm behind all the same. Even to one that could do this well.

Bee couldn't do this well.

He only had a vague idea of what he was even supposed to try to do. Jazz's metaphorical lessons he was never supposed to mention to anybot else. Because for all of Jazz's skill and practice he had never been willing to physically show Bee with his own syncing software. He'd been too afraid of hurting him. Or of Bee hurting himself in trying to do what Jazz showed him. He said Bee was still a bit too young. That they would take the lessons further when they were no longer hidden from everybot else.

Meaning, when Jazz braved Ratchet and Hide's temper in asking for permission to teach Bee something in the long terms caused a good deal of processor problems and in the short term ran the risk of completely wiping out his mind.

Yeah.

No big deal.

Right now though, Bee was silently thanking every rule Jazz ever dared break. Because it was the thing Bee could think of that might possibly stall Lockdown long enough and not get Bee shot full of plasma holes in the process.

No matter how scared he was to reach his trembling fingers down for that thin, smooth syncing cable to sync up with the cluster of wires in his hands.

Sucking in a deep breath, he clamped down as hard as he could on the fear boiling in his spark. Shoving it down as far into his tanks as he could make it go. Deep enough that even though it still made him feel sick it wasn't pounding so hard in his helm. Left him able to think.

He didn't have time for panic.

He didn't have time to think.

He only had time to do.

So do was just what he would have to be able to do.

Clenching his jaw, he wrapped still shaking fingers around the smooth, thin, bendy yellow syncing cable wrapped safely and snugly alone side his syncing ports. Tugging at the cable until he had enough line to work with. Balancing it and the cluster of wires for a long moment. Simply staring at the access port and his pronged cable until with a deep breath he jacked in.

Then, there was nothing but a hard, cold burn.

A burning wave of data that nearly knocked him flat on his aft.

Overwhelming, swelling, crashing, slamming through his thoughts and feeling until he couldn't tell which was up and which was down. Until he couldn't tell his own coding from the programming of almost every door on this whole damn ship.

It _ached_.

He crashed to his knees. Optics blown wide but seeing nothing of the dark wet floor below him. His audios screamed with a binary wail of data streaking through his conscious. Blocking out everything else until it was crushing in on his processing core. Slamming against his firewalls so hard and fast that half of them crumbled to nothing.

Taking.

Sweeping.

Whipping everything the data came across faster than Bee could snatch for it.

Somewhere, in the deepest part of his processing core he realized what it was. A hacking virus.

That damn bounty hunter put a fragging _hacking virus_ on a stupid _door lock_.

Well.

Bee was screwed.

A high pitched screech left him, though he had no knowledge of it. His frame crumbling to the floor in a spasm of limbs and systems that no longer knew what or who they were. That were no longer obeying him. That no longer knew how because a damn virus was eating its way through his processor like a pack of scraplets.

It hurt.

It _hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt_!

Deep in his chest, his spark flared. A boiling hot, _angry_ swell that crashed through the wall he had put there. A burning bright light that slammed back into the fires the virus was burning through his systems. An echoing voice he knew all too well filling his mind. Blocking out the high screech of data.

 _"No, Young Spark. Not like this."_

Bee shook against the floor. Optics blown wide, coolant tears slipping down his cheeks. However, his breath caught, vents suddenly trying to obey again. The core of his processor, shivering in the middle of a fire storm raging around it, turned to take notice.

Not able to even form works at this point. Too broken up and confused, but a questioning whine it could do. Pleading with the bright, golden light pouring in from all around. Pleading for what it didn't know anymore, but pleading all the same.

 _Help, help, help, help please!_

 _"You are stronger then this."_ That familiar voice growled. _"You are stronger then you know. Who are you? Stop this! Fight!"_

 _Help! Please!_

 _"WHO ARE YOU!?"_

 _Me . . . me . . . Bee . . . ._

"Bee," The word grasped out his vocal processor, spilling out over the binary wailing.

 _Bumblebee._ His fists clenched, his optics squeezed shut, his vents kicked hard, and his firewalls shoved back out. Slamming against the virus fire spreading through his mind.

 _Bumblebee._ His optics snapped back open, vents heaving, frame shaking but going still. Staring blankly at the wet puddle of what looked like purge in front of him. _My name is Bumblebee._

 _"What are you?"_ The voice pressed on. Wrapping around his core and pushing with him. Helping his firewalls fight back. Crashing at the edges of retreating burning fire.

 _I'm . . . I'm . . . Hide's and Mia's._ Something in his chest settled, his fingers clenched and unclenched.

 _"What else are you?"_

 _An Autobot._ The fire fell back through another layer of firewalls. The rising deference beating at it. The bright golden light going with it. Rising cooling feeling over the trails of aching coding it left behind.

 _"What else?"_

 _I'm . . . a solider._

 _"Yes,"_ The voice purred, sounding proud. _"Yes, you are now. Now. Get up and fight!"_

His fists slammed into the metal floor below him. A hacking cough rattling through him as he rolled himself up right. Whole frame shaking and shivering, optics hazy and half unseeing but coming back fast. Processor chasing at the tails of the last of the fire like a pack of angry hounds.

Snapping at its heels, driving it back the way it came. Perusing it past the point it had come.

And he breathed.

Feeling returning to his limbs and to his insides. Control and understanding of what was what and what was who.

His breaths heaved, he shook on his hands and knees, staring at the nasty puddle of purge below him, still dripping from his lips.

Anger tightened in his chest. His optics narrowed. His fists clenched.

His attention turned inward, staring internally down the cabling he had pushed the virus.

He gave chase.

He needed that buried code. He wasn't leaving without it.

He dove head first. Crashing, grasping, ripping, tearing. Digging past the cowering virus. Tearing it to pieces. Shredding its coding to nothing as something hurt and vindictive slipped to calm in his chest.

Then, _there_! Right there.

He snatched at the code, yanking it into himself and then running like pit. Trembling hands reaching up to yank his cable back out of the access point. Leaving the smoking wires dangling as he crashed backward on the slick floor.

There, he panted.

Aching in places inside that he didn't know he had. A quiet whimper leaving him while he slowly balled himself up. Knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them. He buried his head down and simply hung on.

Slowly getting a feel of . . . himself again.

Shivering as he his processor carefully worked through every gear, every wire, every string of stinging code.

 _These are my toes. These are my wings. This is my spark. This is my plasma reserve. These are my tanks._

 _This is me._

 _This is_ me _!_

 _I'm me._

"I'm Bee." He whispered into his knees, shivering rattling his plating. "I'm Bee. I'm Bee. I'm me."

 _"Yes,"_ His antennas perked up, attention shifting inward to the calm part of his spark he had walled up before, but now set open once more. Where that warm golden light glowed in pleasant pride. _"Yes, you are, and who am I?"_

"Star." Bee muttered, confused and scared but suddenly not of his foreign-familiar voice. Not anymore.

A please hum rumbled through his spark. One that he didn't make.

"Thank you." He whispered, doorwings plastered against back and voice scratchy.

 _"You are welcome."_

Still shivering, the small yellow youngling glanced up at the smoking wiring dangling from the door lock. His fingers clenched against his knees.

"How about I never do that again?"

 _"Probably wise. There is still much for you to learn. But your bravery, I commend."_

"Can you commend bravery?" Bee snorted, blinking down at his own chest. "You're a voice in my head."

 _"No. I am a voice in your spark."_

"There is a difference?"

 _"Very much so."_

Bee snickered, still feeling off balance and more then a little insane, but there sitting in his pull up commands was the coding for the doors. He did it.

He actually did it.

He almost didn't believe it.

The aching inside made it pretty easy to accept the fact though.

"Well," He sighed, wondering how much effort it was going to take to get up off his aft and get back to this brilliantly stupid plan of his. "Next stop, musical doors."

* * *

Granted, if Bee had any sense he just so epically proved he was born without, he probably would have hunkered down in a hole somewhere and wreaked havoc on Lockdown's ship from a place he couldn't be reached.

He did have a sort of plan for that.

He was mostly sure it would work.

He just had to work his way back down to that monitor room. Most of the doors he might have control of, but that didn't mean he was sure which ones were which. He needed to be able to see them. The best place for that to be doable was that room full of computers.

If he was lucky the bot he had heard down there would be gone. If he wasn't . . . well the weight of the dagger Sides gave him was a comforting feeling in his subspace. He had used it once. He could use it again.

He would ignore the sick feeling in his tanks at the thought as well.

Star had gone quiet once again. Seemingly content that Bee hadn't walled him back up once he got good enough control of his systems.

Considering he was pretty sure his odd little voice in his spark was the only reason he wasn't dead on the floor with a burned out processor, he didn't have any plans on walling him back up any time soon. And for now, he didn't have time to wonder any more about his weird little voice.

Maybe when this was all over Dust would actually get to answer that question he asked. First though, they were going to have to get out of here alive. For that to happen, Bee needed to get moving.

Not stand here in the cross section of a hall that split between the level his family was caged on and the one that held the monitor room.

His spark quivered in his chest. Still scared from what had happened with the hacking. Every instinct inside of him demanding that he seek out his sire. He wanted to be held. He wanted to feel safe.

He wanted the aching in his head to go away.

He knew better.

He knew it wouldn't help. He knew it was likely going to end badly.

But he still felt the left over pain seeping from Dustoff and Wardrums. He could still feel his family poking at his over his bond. Aware that he was alive, but worried about him. He didn't realize he'd shut off his bonds during that hack.

Or, more accurately, that Star had.

Bee knew better.

He knew he was running out of time if the pulsing he could feel through the floor meant anything. And yet, he swallowed his quivering reasons and snuck down toward the cells all the same.

* * *

Ironhide stood with his arms braced against the wall between his cell and Prime's. Head lowered, optics closed, focus trained on the warm flicker of Bumblebee at the other end of his bond. The little mech had closed up on him a little while ago.

Little fragger.

Blocking himself off from all of them if the way they all tensed up, went quiet, and waited was anything to go by. Not long, but long enough to send them all into a rapidly building panic. Then, suddenly, he was there again. Feeling weird and hazy down the end of the bonds, but there.

Attention so off onto whatever the frag he was doing that he didn't notice how much they were all pulling at him. Or at least, was pretending not to notice.

Ironhide was pretty sure at this point that his youngling was on the ship. He had to be at this rate with how near he felt. The massive ebony mech didn't know he was relieved or terrified by this concept.

He was on this bastard hunter's ship. Hiding somewhere. Likely planning something that was going to hurt him while he tried to figure out a way to get them all off.

Hide knew his youngling that well.

Just as he knew the little mech already figured out calling for help from Mia or any of the others they left behind though his comms or bonds wasn't going to work. The comms because Lockdown would track him in a nano on this ship. The bonds because they were now too far away.

That left a desperate little mechling, hiding and alone on a bounty hunter's ship with very few options.

And every single one of the mechs standing around in these damn cells staring at each other, waiting, knew it too.

The last thing he expected was for that tiny ball of yellow to do was drop down from the ceiling and land with a thud in front of his cell though.

Ironhide startled.

Stumbling back from the wall he was hanging his head against. Twisting around with a jerk that his aching cannon did not appreciate the same time the twins bolted up right, Jazz twisted around, Ratchet stumble up, Optimus surged to the front of his cell, Wardrums looked up from his knees, and Dustoff blinked open his optics again.

All of them staring in almost disbelief at the little yellow mech shoving himself up right there between Hide and Jazz's cells. Twisting this way and that as he looked them all over, bright optics a little frantic and doorwings pinned behind his back. But his antennas were up. Flickering to match the way he darted his gaze around before he finally twisted himself to a stop. Blinking up at Ironhide through the pulsing energy bars of his cage and a weary smile pulled up his lips.

"Hey Hide."

Ironhide surged to the bars before he even had time to think about it. Stopping just sort of burning himself on them, he wedged one thick arm through as well as he could. Cupping his large hand around the back of that small round head and yanking him forward.

Not close enough to risk the bars but close enough Ironhide could reach him with his field. Shoving it out to mesh against the tired tinge of his son's. Wrapping around him while he flared at the bond. Sending both forms of reassurance, checking, fear, exasperation, pride at him while he rubbed a thumb under those big baby blue optics.

For a moment, all he could see was a tiny yellow ball that once fit in the palm of his hand. With big, trusting optics and an open spark that burned brighter than anything else.

When the old black mech blinked the vison was gone. Leaving behind a tired youngling that didn't belong in this dark, damp place. Though he stood firm all the same. Too soft plating pulled tight to his protoform, and too bright optics dimmed against the dark of the cell block.

He was dimmed in the face of unknowing and fear, but he wasn't counted out. No, not Bee. Bee still burned brighter.

He was Hide's sparkling.

He wouldn't quit without a fight.

No matter how often that scared Ironhide's old spark more than it could take. This mechling would be the death of him one orn, and Hide would have it no other way.

"What the pit do you think you're doing, Bee?" His voice was rougher then he would have liked. Gravely and stressed, but Bumblebee simply smirked in the face of his rolling emotions. Poking back at the frantic pulling of his bond and field with a quick wash of _I'm okay, I'm here, I'm fine, see I'm here_.

Ironhide didn't even bother to hide the fact that he desperately needed it.

"What should I have done?" Bee huffed at him, looking amused and scared all at the same time. "Stayed in the sand and hid while he took you mechs away?"

 _Yes._ Ironhide wanted to shout it. He wanted to shake the little mech until he ran and hid again. He shouldn't be here. He couldn't be here. Not on a bounty hunter's ship. Not this bounty hunter. Not somebot that could bring a mech like Wardrums to his knees. Not a mech that was hunting Optimus. Not a mech that would look at this tiny yellow ball of brightness and see only the credits it could make him.

Both dead and alive.

Ironhide didn't know which one he feared more. That Lockdown would kill him, or that he'd sell him if he got his hands on him.

"You shouldn't be sneaking around here." Sunstreaker hissed, his own voice an odd mix of relief and fear as he and his brother crowded the bars of their cell. Looking down the block at the little mech standing there.

Bumblebee turned enough in Hide's grip to look back at them. Not enough to shake off the big black mech's grip—not that Hide could let him go at the moment—but enough to frown rather epically at the pair of brothers staring at him.

"And what, let him sell you all who the pit knows where!? What was I supposed to do!?"

 _Not get yourself killed on this damn ship trying to save us. Don't you see, little one, we'd die for you. We'd never even think about it. You're not supposed to do it for us though._

The thought rolled through all of them—well maybe not War and Dust, Hide didn't know about them—but none of them said it.

Then, suddenly, Jazz growled.

Ironhide tensed.

Optics darting up expecting to find a large frame prowling at either end of the cell block. Nothing was there though. And when that dark blue gaze snapped back down to the shorter silver mech to find that blue visor locked on Bee.

Confused, Ironhide was about the snap about the saboteur's frankly awful timing when Bee wilted out of his hand. Before Jazz even hissed out.

"Get over here."

For a moment, Bee hovered. Looking like all he wanted to do was bolt back to whatever place he had been hiding. However, after a tense nano, he sank out of Hide's hold and drug his feet over to Jazz.

The much leaner silver mech had an easier time reaching through the bars. Longs, sharp claws grasping hold of thin yellow plating and pulling him closer. Close enough that the energy emanating off the bars crackled against his field.

Bee paid it no mind through. Focusing instead on the sharp glow of blue optics pinning him behind that narrow blue visor. It was those sharp claws catching at the underside of his chest that made him bite back a yelp. His optics snapping down to find a faint black scorch mark around the sensitive plating down to the protoform that was hidden underneath.

Oh.

Well.

Maybe that burn had been in more than his mind.

Blinking at it he tried not to shiver at the ache the slight touch brought before Jazz pulled back with a low rumbling snarl. Hissing quietly in the air between them.

"What did you do?"

Bee gulped, trying to pretend he couldn't feel the optics burning into his back.

"I . . . uh . . ." Ducking his helm, he slipped a bit further out of Jazz's grip. Those claws tightened, not letting him escape.

" _Bumblebee._ " The saboteur snarled.

"What you showed me how to." He muttered, feeling as well as seeing the moment Jazz realized. His claws yanking away from the mechling as he stepped back a pace in his cell.

Then, he snapped. "I told you _not_ to do that. You aren't ready yet."

"Well I _did_ do it. And I'm fine!"

Mostly.

 _Besides the whole sucking in a virus and almost getting my processor whipped. Which would have happened if not for the whole freaking voice in my spark thing._

Yeah.

 _Just fine._

Jazz snarled at him again, but it was Optimus' deep rumble that had him spinning around. Allowing other dark blue gazes to take in the scorch along his plating.

"Where did you get that?" The Prime bit with such buried anger that Bee sank back, antennas pinning back into their slots.

"I uh . . . sorta . . . hacked the ship."

Silence.

Then, Ironhide's cannons cycled along with his growling engine.

"I'm gonna fraggin' murder you, Jazz."

Oddly enough, War started laughing.

And Ratchet exploded.

"YOU DID _WHAT_!?"

Bee ducked his head.

" _WHAT_!? YOU _HACKED—_ what—how—when—what the frag!?"

"Jazz showed me."

"I DIDN'T TELL YA TO USE IT!" The silver mech shouted.

"You showed him and didn't think he'd do it!?" Ironhide screamed.

"Who the pit told you, you could teach him hacking!?" Optimus snarled.

Then, a plasma shot went off.

Booming, hissing, whizzing through the air.

Bee's doorwings flared, his antennas stiffened, and he fell backward in a scrambling heap just in time to watch a burning blue shot fly by his face.

Hitting the ground with a bang, he twisted before he hardly knew he was doing it. Back up on his knees, poised to spring which every way he had to. Vorns of Jazz's, and the twins', and Mia's, and Hide's words swirling into his mind. Moving muscle cabling and reaching for the knife hidden in his subspace without conscious thought. Energy field still burning from the shot that had torn though it.

When his optics snapped up to find what had caused it though, he froze. And suddenly, their whole building shouting match came crashing down when a chorus of feral growls echoed up from the end of the cell block.

Bumblebee's doorwings flared up ridged behind his back from where they had pinned in his fall. Whole frame locking tight with a hot surge of fear while every mech around him went silent.

Slowly, almost scared to look past the sound of building growls echoing down the hall, Bee glanced this way and that. Optics widening on the scene he found at the end. Six snarling canines. Two black hounds, three grey wire wolves, and one—holy pit!— _white_ static hound with burning red optics. All chained and held back by the fist of one darkly sneering purple flier holding a smoking blaster.

"Well, well, well," The huge mech hissed in a reedy gasp. "Look what we have here. Seems the little mouse made it out of the hole. That's almost impressive, for a pretty little mouse."

Something in Bee's tanks clenched uneasily at the leer that curled up that pale black faceplate. His protoform feeling sticky and cold at the off orange optics tracing him.

 _Wrong._ His spark clenched, confused at why every fiber in him screamed run. Not from the hounds, and not from the gun, but from that look.

The hounds barked, the wolves snarling, the white one glaring down a long pointed snout. Those fire optics blazing as they set in on him. Predatory intent in the surging they did against the chains holding them back.

These canines were use to kill bots. Used to eat them.

Bee didn't need to reach out and see that that was what that hungry pack wanted. It was written all over those snapping fangs and lolling tongues. What was written in that mech's orange optics rang even scarier though.

"Poor little mouse, all alone in the dark. Can the mouse run? I'd like to see him run."

The fist holding back those tight chains loosened.

"How about it, mouse? Lets see how fast you can run."

The chain fell, the pack surged, and the blaster lifted.

 _"Run, Young Spark. Run. Now!"_

Yeah, didn't need to tell him twice.

Bee bolted.

The sounds of his snarling family left behind as he twisted and broke for the hall. Scrambling up and back the way he had come as a pack of snarling canines snapped at his heels. Laughing mech ringing up an alarm that blared through the ship over the sound of that distorted reedy laugh.

Well, he _had_ been trying to get Lockdown's attention.

 _Guess this works._ He laughed a little hysterically to himself. Breath too high and short in his chest as he ran as fast as he could for the stairs.

 _"Yes,"_ Star snarked. _"You've got a mad pack and a pervert on your heels on an egotistical bounty hunter's ship. Well done. Now_ run _before they catch you!"_

 _I am, I am!_

He hit the stairs at a tumbling sprint. The hard snap of jaws crashing down just where he had been as a blaster shot burned by over his helm.

Oh yeah.

This was a great plan.

Running for his life, he keyed up the commands for the ship doors he had stolen. Randomly starting to ping them open and lock them closed as he waded through the strings. Just as, over the ship speakers, a snarling voice hissed.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE YOUNGLINGS ON MY SHIP!?"

 _Yep._ Wonderful _plan._

* * *

 **Little mech really does need to get better with his planning skills.**

 **-Jaycee**


End file.
